Deviant Desires
by Flagg1991
Summary: Sam and Luna now live together in the city and Lincoln attends college a few miles away. When he agrees to spend his spring break with them, Sam notices that Luna is excited...maybe a little too excited. Realizing she likes the idea of Lincoln and Luna together, Sam hatches a plan to make it happen. [Commission] (Cover by MedullaMind)
1. The Sam With a Plan

Everybody has a secret. That frumpy librarian? Total dominatrix in bed. The little old man shuffling down the street and looking like a mummy? Nazi war criminal in hiding. The nondescript middle aged dork down the street? "**He was such a nice guy," neighbors say of gunman. **

Sam Sharp, twenty-two and currently working part time as a paid intern (AKA bitch) at WKBG, knew that all too well, for she had a few of her own. For one, she accidentally burned down her grandparents' detached garage when she was eight (hey, she was a little firebug back then, what could she say?). For two, she had never seen _Ghostbusters, Alien, _or _The Thing_. That might not sound like much, but when you're hanging out with a group of rockers who dig old school stuff and you tell them that, they'll spend the next fifteen minutes roasting you like a pig on a spit. And trust me, they will _not _go easy. Like damn, sorry I haven't seen this fifty year old B-movie, what a POS, right? Burn me like a witch, but be warned, fire turns me on!

Okay, no, it didn't.

Not anymore.

Anyhoo, Sam knew that everyone, everyone, has at least a little baby skeleton in their closet. Her girlfriend, Luna, was no different. Tall and curvy with shaggy brown hair, cute little freckles, and brown eyes that shimmered in the light of the morning sun like chocolate diamonds, Luna was everything Sam had ever wanted in a partner: Kind, chill, liked good music, and was a demon in the sack. Ummm. Some dykes used toys, but Luna had the magic touch: She could ride your pussy and finger your G-Spot at the same time. Sam didn't know how that was even possible, and every time she vowed to study her lover's methods, she wound up twisted and moaning in ecstasy instead, all thoughts forgotten. Kind of hard to think when your soul's gushing out of your twat.

Sam had been with Luna since they were both fifteen and knew and loved every freckle, blemish, mole, and laugh. They shared an apartment on 116th Street in South Detroit, a neighborhood populated by ancient brownstones with zigzagging fire escapes, vacant lots, and crackheads. They both worked and attended school online, Luna for music and Sam for dental hygiene, and honestly, Sam was 100 percent happy. They didn't always have enough money...and sometimes their power got shut off and they had to eat Ramen six nights a week..,but they were in love and always got by. Sam could not see herself anywhere else than with her raspy voiced angel.

Angel or no, however, Luna _was _a human being and therefore came preloaded with secrets and mysteries. Sam never pried or pressed or worried over them. They were for Luna to know and for Luna to share _if _she wanted. She trusted Luna to not cheat or piss what little money they had away on dumb shit, and that was all that really mattered.

It was by accident, then, that Sam discovered her girlfriend's deepest, darkest god-don't-tell-anyone secret. In retrospect, it started in early March, when Luna's little brother Lincoln called to tell her he had enrolled in City College in Detroit, a bare five miles from Sam and Luna's building. Luna grew up in a big, close-knit family and hadn't seen much of them since she and Sam moved out on their own three years ago, so it stood to reason that she'd be excited that her brother was moving closer.

Only...she was a little _too _excited. She talked about it for nearly a week, and when she did, her eyes sparkled like starlight. She went on and on and _on_. Lincoln this, Lincoln that. You ever hear the phrase "to ride someone's dick"? It's basically the zoomer version of "to kiss someone's ass." Luna rode Lincoln's dick so hard that even Sam herself started thinking he was Jesus Christ incarnate. He was so sweet, so caring, so considerate, he always helped Luna when she needed it, he was a good listener - jeez, ride him a little harder, huh?

Sam didn't think anything of it at first. Luna was happy and Sam was happy too. This obviously meant a lot to her, and even though she (mentally) made fun of Luna for kissing her brother's butt, she knew how much Luna loved her family, and wasn't in the least bit put off, offended, or anything else. Why would she be? Only an abusive asshole gets butt blasted because their partner has family and friends.

In June, Lincoln took a Greyhound from Royal Woods and stayed with them for a few days while he toured his college. The whole time, Luna was jammed up his butt. She'd sit on the couch with one leg drawn under her, snuggle up against the overstuffed cushion padding the back, and talk to him for hours with this satisfied little smirk that she had only ever given Sam. The poor guy couldn't even take a leak without Luna tracking him down. She was like a lost puppy dog, and on the day Lincoln left, she hugged him so tightly that his eyes bugged out. He looked like his spine was about to snap, and Sam had to feel bad for him. He was thin almost to the point of emaciation and Luna's arms were toned and muscular from years of guitar (and G-Spot) picking, so when she hugged, brother, she fucking _hugged_.

Other than that, nothing particularly strange happened during his visit, but as she watched Luna and Lincoln interact, Sam could almost believe that Luna kind of had a thing for him.

That was ridiculous, and, Sam thought, _maybe _the jealousy talking. Luna was all about Lincoln, Lincoln, Lincoln, and after a while, Sam started to feel ignored. It was nothing.

Lincoln started at State in September and picked up a part time job at a deli after school. Between work and school, Sam and Luna rarely saw him, and Luna seemed fine with that. She was content having her brother close, and Sam felt kind of bad for thinking - even in jest - that her feelings for Lincoln were anything but innocent.

What made her feel even worse was this:

The thought of a sister digging her brother was really hot.

Sam was young, bisexual, and liberated, but when it came to sex, she was fairly vanilla. She wasn't into minors, she wasn't into the elderly, she didn't like be choked, tied up, watched, or anything else off the wall. She liked it slow, languid, and full of touching, kissing, and passion. In other words, her sexual appetite was normal and absolutely _not_ what even the most prudest of prudes would call deviant. Even so, once she noticed how Luna acted with Lincoln, she started to turn the idea of sibling incest over in her mind, and was surprised to find she liked it...like _really _liked it. The thought of a brother and sister so consumed with biological need that they met under the covers at night and did things to each other that they ought not do...shameful things that felt so fucking good they just didn't care...turned her on so much her knees shook. Why was that idea so freaking hot? Why did imagining Luna and Lincoln as two horny kids touching each other while their family slept on unaware make her panties damp?

She didn't know, but at first, she was a _liiitltle _mortified. Come on, brother and sister? That's sick. But every stray thought brought her back to it and after a while, she wasn't so ashamed anymore. Once, during one of hers and Luna's epic jam seshes, she pretended they were sexually repressed sisters exploring the fruits of each other's bodies for the first time, innocent and curious and flushed from head to toe, and when she came, she came _hard_. But there was something special about the idea of real, flesh and blood siblings getting it on. It was wrong, it was taboo, it was somehow sweet and pure at the same time it was dirty and sinful.

For a while, she entertained the fantasy of Luna and Lincoln together, then work and life got in the way and she largely forgot about it. In early April, she was stretched out on the couch and watching TV when Luna came through the door from work, her Android wedged between her ear and her shoulder. "Yeah," she said happily and bumped the door closed with her hip, "it's gonna be rockin'. I can't wait."

Sam lifted the remote and changed the channel. Oh, cool, Dr. Phil was on. Today he was exploiting - I mean helping - a woman whose toddler weighed nearly two hundred pounds. Plus, she didn't know who the father was, so Muary was there to give her the results of a paternity test.

Luna came over and Sam moved her feet so she could sit, then sat them in her lap. Luna switched her phone to her other hand and nodded. "Yeah," she said, "the bus stops at the end of the street and goes right past there."

Who was she talking to?

On TV, Muary read the results to a group of fat men. "You are NOT the fathers." They all broke out in a perfectly choreographed victory dance; man breasts jiggled, stomachs rippled, and when they spun as one, eight butt cracks winked at the audience.

"Yeah, no big," Luna said. A sly grin spread across her lips, and Sam frowned. Okay, who -?

Then it hit her.

Lincoln.

"Okay, yeah," Luna said, "I gotta go too. Can't wait to see you, bro." She hit END and dropped the phone on the coffee table. She let out a refreshed sigh, sat back, and took one of Sam's feet in her hands. Her face was downright glowing, and even before Sam opened her mouth, she knew exactly why.

"Who was that?" she asked anyway.

Luna kneaded Sam's sole. "Lincoln. He's gonna stay with us for spring break...if that's okay." There was no challenge in her voice, but there also wasn't any question. Lincoln was going to spend a week here whether Sam liked it or not. Luckily for Luna, she didn't mind one little bit.

For a good two days, Luna was stoked. Like _really _stoked. She floated around on a bank of clouds, laughed easier, and didn't worry as much over the bills. Sam watched her the entire time, and could have _sworn _she was observing a girl in love.

_Did _she have a thing for her brother? Despite all the idle thoughts Sam had poured into the concept of Lincuna, she never seriously thought Luna was into him, but now...she wasn't so sure. It was possible, right? Or was Sam just turning into a huge perv? She intentionally brought the topic of Lincoln up and studied her girlfriend's face. Big, shimmery eyes? Check. Hazy Cheshire smile? Check. Girlish giddiness? Check-a-rooney. All signs are pointing toward yes.

Wow.

Just wow.

She dug her own brother. Did she even realize it? Or was it, like, subconscious? And if it wasn't, didn't she know how awful that was? How unnatural?

How HOT?

Lying in bed that night next to Luna, Sam stared at her phone, unseeing, and spun grand erotic visions of Luna and Lincoln in her head. She imagined the tip of Lincoln's dick hovering hesitantly over Luna's opening, his resolve wavering as he had second thoughts. Luna lay with her legs spread to reveal her pink center, nude save for a purple tanktop that slipped down one freckled shoulder. She anxiously chewed her bottom lip, one eye urging he on and the other begging him to stop. A look of uncertainty passed between them; they knew what they were about to do was wrong, but they both wanted it so fucking bad. Lincoln's arms, planted on either side of his sister's shoulders, shook and his back rose and fell with the tide of his breathing; Luna mindlessly rocked her hips back and forth, her body already going through the motions to which her brain couldn't quite commit.

They stayed that way like a scene frozen in time, and Sam flashed. Penetrate her, damn it! She saw herself reaching out and shoving Lincoln roughly forward. His dick sank between his big sister's waiting folds. They let out a shared gasp, and Sam kneaded Lincoln's shoulders like a playful kitten, tempting him to move his hips in sinful unison with his sister, leading him astray and loving every second of it. Lincoln began to rut, and the whole time, Sam rubbed herself against his flexing butt, the sights, sounds, and smells of his and Luna's coupling driving her into a frenzy.

She came back to herself and realized she was so wet that the crotch of her lounge pants were damp. She shifted uncomfortably, and her thighs slid wetly together.

It was official. She was a perv _big time_.

Oh well. There are worse things to get girl-hard to than the idea of your sexy girlfriend being reamed out by her cute little brother.

While that was true, it was still kind of a strange thing to get flustered over.

Strange or not, she was turned on and…

...and she kind of wanted it to actually happen. She pictured herself sitting on the edge of the bed while Lincoln fucked Luna inches away, watching as her lover gave into her biological urges and forgot for one blissful moment that Lincoln was her brother. Watching as Luna took his dick deep into her body, watching as she clutched the sheets and threw herself into his thrusts...watching as he pumped his load into her, seeding her fertile womb with thick sperm that had absolutely no business being inside that particular girl.

Uhhh. Jesus fuck, why was that so sexy?

A lump welled in her throat and she stole a quick glance at Luna, who scrolled through her own phone. Yeah, fucked or not, strange or not, fucking _illegal _or not, she wanted to watch Luna's little brother fuck her.

The thing was: How would _Luna _feel about that? Everything from the merry light in her eyes down to the raspy purr of her voice when she spoke to him on the phone told Sam Luna's love wasn't so innocent, but subconsciously feeling something (if subconscious it was) is a lot different from actually doing it. Plus, maybe Sam was reading her all wrong.

Hmmm. No, she knew Luna, there was _definitely _something there.

She examined Luna's profiled, as if by doing so she could find some conclusive proof that Luna's feelings were impure, but found none. Maybe they were, maybe they weren't, but the hot issue here was this: Was Sam _really _willing to watch Lincoln fuck her? Say she brought up the subject and Luna was 100 percent onboard. Great. Thinking and doing were two different things, remember? Could she honestly let someone else make love to her girl? Could she honestly sanction a brother pinning his sister's legs to her ears and railing her until she creamed? Yeah, the mental image that called up was omg, but...it was kind of a big deal. What if it fractured his and Luna's relationship? What if they caught _real _feelings for each other? She'd heard the term "playing with fire" before, and if it didn't describe this, she was the Queen of Sheba.

After a little soul searching - and willfully ignoring any scruples that didn't agree with what she already knew she wanted - she decided that getting Lincoln and Luna in bed wasn't just okay, but great. They were already close, and this...well, this would just bring them closer. Kind of hard to _not _be close to a girl you've been balls deep in. That's a special connection right there, and really, Lincoln and Luna were _just _the type of brother and sister who deserved a richer and fuller relationship.

When you got right down to it, she'd be doing them a favor. And by _not _doing it, she'd be denying them something beautiful and pure and good. She couldn't do that. And anyway, Luna totally had a little crush on Lincoln...she was just too embarrassed to act on it.

That was where the world's best girlfriend - AKA Samantha Kelly Sharp - came in. If she could give Luna and Lincoln a little wink-wink, nudge-nudge, good things would happen for all of them. They'd get to parttake of each other's forbidden flesh, and she'd get to see her girlfriend committing incest with her little brother. Then maybe after Lincoln filled his sister to the brim, he could do the same to her. Remember that scene from _Joe Dirt? _"I'm your sister! I'm your sister!" Sam would scream that until she flipped her top, then she'd take every last drop of his cum to -

Jesus, she really needed this to happen. She got raunchy af when she was horny, and nothing would cure the ache in her loins but Lincoln and Luna sinning before her hungry eyes. Maybe when he was done nutting in his sister she would -

She shook her head. Alright, where was she again?

Oh, right, nudging Luna into the idea of doing her brother. First, she needed to sound her out and see where she stood. Would it take a little poke, or a big ol' shove?

"So," she said and laid her phone on her chest, "Linc, huh?"

Luna glanced up. "Huh?"

"Lincoln's coming to town."

The corners of Luna's mouth twitched. "Yeah," she said patiently, as though Sam had pointed out something painfully obvious, "he is."

"How many days?"

"Thursday."

Three days. Spring break lasted a week. "That's cool," she said. "I mean, you're really amped."

Luna nodded. "Yeah, I can't wait to see him. It's been a while."

The last time they saw Lincoln for more than a quick hi and bye was at Christmas, when they all took a Greyhound to Royal Woods and stayed with the Louds for a couple days. Luna was happy to see all her siblings, but guess which one she stuck to? His name started with an L and ended with an incoln.

You know, now that Sam thought about it, Luna hadn't always been like this. It only really started when they moved to the city. Maybe Lincoln represented something more to her, like family. Maybe she was conflating her sexuality with that because...well...Sam didn't have an explanation for that. She liked to think she was smart, but she wasn't _that _smart. Go ask Frued for an answer.

"Yeah, it's been a little while," Sam agreed nonchalantly, then, "you're just _really _excited."

Luna's brow crinkled ever so slightly. "I guess," she said.

She wasn't giving Sam much to work with, but that was Luna for you. When she wanted to stonewall, she outdid Jackson.

If ya know what I'm saying.

"Just...if I didn't know about better…" Sam shrugged.

"What?"

Sam shrugged again. She didn't want to come outright and say it, but she apparently had to. "I'd say it's almost like you're into him."

There.

It was out.

Luna favored her with a blank stare, then understanding dawned in her eyes...and Sam was positive she saw a little spark of guilt. "M-My brother?" Luna asked sharply. Why did her voice sound so...stiff? So...contrived?

Because she was...oh, I don't know...lying?

"I didn't _say _you were into him, it's just...it's kind of almost like you are. It's cute."

"That's _gross,_" Luna amended. "Why would you even say that, dude?"

Sam pushed herself up on her elbows and sat back against the headboard. Luna watched her warily, brows angled down in an outraged V. "Every time you get around Lincoln, or talk to Lincoln, or talk _about _Lincoln, you just kind of...I dunno. Glow."

Luna threw up one hand. "He's my brother," she said, "I love him."

"More than your sisters?" Sam asked pointedly.

Luna opened her mouth, then snapped it closed again. Ha, got'cha. "No," she said. The defensive edge in her voice was unmistakable. "I love all of them, but he's the only one close..."

Before Luna finished speaking, Sam crossed her arms over her chest with a flourish and lifted a challenging brow. Luna faltered and trailed off, her cheeks turning a very faint shade of red. "Seriously," Sam said, then cracked a knowing grin, "do you have the hots for your brother?"

"No!" Luna cried. "I just...I mean...you know how close we are. It's…" she struggled to come up with a convincing response, then sighed. "I'm closest with him than anyone else, alright? We all kind of are. It's like...we spent more time with him than each other growing up. You know how much one on one I got with Lisa? Like none. She's still a stranger to me. Lincoln, though...it's almost like he's the only sibling I have."

Sam nodded. Luna had said as much - though not as bluntly - and Sam understood it. Lincoln was the middle child, and, like a box of baking soda soaking in odors from the fridge, he kind of absorbed a little bit of everyone's personality. He could be competitive like Lynn, artistic like Lucy and Luna, serious-minded like Lori, prissy like Lola, and animal-loving like Lana. He was the perfect playmate, friend, and confidant to each of his sisters. Well, maybe not perfect, but more perfect than anyone else. He was also kind of a pushover, so if one of his sisters needed help with something, they just went and grabbed Lincoln.

All of his sisters probably felt that way about him, and for a brief second, Sam felt a twist of shame at what she was planning.

But Luna was into him. She just _knew _it. Luan and Lynn were always happy to see him too, but not like Luna. Luna practically piddled whenever he was around...and it sure wasn't pee dripping down the inside of her leg. It was girl cum, the deepest, sweetest essence of woman, the body's natural lubircation lovingly secreted in anticipation of being fucking mated…

Sam squeezed her thighs together. Alright, she needed to get laid stat.

Just as soon as this was over. "Yeah," she said sympathetically, "I know, it's just...you seem like maybe there's something there, and...you like him, don't you?"

Her reward was a withering glare that slowly dissolved into a slight frown. Luna darted her eyes to her lap and let out a deep sigh. "When I was fifteen I used to think _man, I really want a guy like Lincoln_. You know, sweet, caring, stuff like that."

She spoke in a halting manner that suggested talking about this wasn't easy for her, so Sam scooted closer and laid a tender hand on her knee, communicating endless love and understanding. Again, her stomach knotted and her resolve almost crumbled. She loved Luna, nothing would change that, and it occurred to her that she was seriously considering manipulating the girl she was in love with to do something that she might not really want to do on her own.

Then it passed.

Of course she wanted to. The proof was right here in front of her.

"And a couple times we'd hang out and laugh and have fun and I just...I wanted to kiss him." Luna smiled fondly, then swallowed it down just as quickly as it had come. "But I knew how fucked up that was and I kicked myself in the ass for it." She hastened to add, "I don't feel that way anymore, it was just hormones, you know? Puberty and all that."

Sam nodded. Inside, she was smiling.

Oh yes.

This was _totally _going to happen.

Poor Lincoln was going to come through that door like a fly into a spider's trap, completely unaware that his soon-to-be sister-in-law was going to gobble him up. By the end of this week, his dick was going to be buried so deep in Luna's crotch that whoever pulled it out would be crowned the new King Arthur.

Sam cupped Luna's cheek in her palm. "If you do have feelings for him...it doesn't bother me."

"I don't," Luna vowed.

But she did, and later that night, after they had sex and lay in each other's arms, Luna asleep and Sam drowsing, Sam began to plot.

Just as she drifted off…

...she smiled.


	2. The Prodigal Brother Returns

Weak amber light filtered through the open window over the desk and a whiff of warm wind rustled the screen. The high, joyous trill of birdsong greeted the new day, and in the commons down below, a girl laughed and called someone named Johnny a loser. Lincoln Loud peeled one eyelid open, and the world swam gradually into focus. It was just past seven by the clock on the nightstand, and the alarm was set for seven-fifteen.

_Might as well get up now._

For a moment he simply lay there, regretting every decision he had ever made to bring him to this point - getting out of bed early on an off day - then he swung his legs out from under the covers and sat up. The fabric of his blue boxer shorts bunched in his ass crack and his damp white T-shirt stuck to his sweaty frame; the A/C in his dorm didn't work right and even with the window open, it got hot. He got to his feet, pulled his boxers out of his ass, and shuffled to the mini fridge next to the desk, the hardwood floor gritty and cool on his bare feet. He bent, opened the door, and retrieved a can of Coke from the top shelf. A slice of pizza on a paper plate, a green squeeze bottle shaped like a lime, and a couple cans of Natty Ice were the only other occupants.

He popped the lid, took a long, grateful drink, and perched on the edge of the desk. Below, archaic brick buildings loomed over a green commons dotted by trees and benches and crisscrossed with concrete walkways. Normally, it would be thronged with kids making their way to class but now it stood desolate and empty, the only living things in evidence the birds and a few squirrels chasing each other up and down the gnarled trunk of a spreading oak tree. A white plastic bag blew along the ground like a restless spirit, then got hung up on a branch and fluttered impotently for a moment before going slack, as if in surrender.

Today was the first day of spring break and most of the kids on campus had left the night before. Lincoln's roommate, Andrew, let out after his last class yesterday, and for the first time in months, Lincoln had the place to himself.

You know what _that _means.

He watched anime with the volume turned all the way up.

Taking another drink, Lincoln got up and went to the dresser, where he sifted through the drawers in an attempt to dig up enough socks, underwear, and shirts to keep him clothed for the week. He sat the soda aside, fetched his duffle bag from under his bed, and carried it to the desk. In the courtyard, a security guard in black walked an idle beat, his hands thrust into the pockets of his jacket. Lincoln shoved the clothes into the bag, tossed in a Ziploc baggie containing his toiletries, then zipped it up.

He was spending Spring Break with Sam and Luna. He was planning to take a bus back to Royal Woods, but his boss wouldn't give him any time off. _I need you makin' sandwiches, Loud, _he said, _not trouble on the beach! _Well, sir, I wasn't going to the beach, I was going home, but okay. It took Lincoln forever to find that job and he was terrified of losing it and going back to searching every nook and cranny with a fine tooth comb while his money dwindled. There's nothing scarier, nothing more wrought with hopelessness, than being an adult and looking for a job, but not finding one.

That's the stuff nightmares are made of.

He didn't make much at the deli, but he was able to eat and have a little bit of cash in his pocket, so if missing out on seeing his family was what it took to keep the boss happy, fine. Lincoln was a well-adjusted adult, he didn't need to be shoved up his family's ass. He'd catch them next time.

He _was _going to just stay here, but he was talking to Luna on the phone one day, and she insisted that he come over and "crash on the couch, bro." He tried to beg off, but she was persistent. "Come on, man, it's been a while, I really wanna see you." It hadn't been all _that _long. They saw each other at Christmas, which was...let's see..he counted on his fingers. Five months.

Whoa.

Five months?

That _was _a long time.

Growing up, Lincoln was close with his family. Not in an obsessive, co-dependent, way, but maybe a little more than average. Kind of hard not to get close to someone when you live stacked eleven deep in a house with paper thin walls. His sisters were also very forceful. They had their needs and Lincoln was the only one who could meet them.

Ew. That sounded bad.

No, see, his sisters all had their own thing going on, Leni making dresses, Luna rocking, Luan comedy, Lucy writing morbid-ass poetry, and Lynn...back at it _again_ with the sportsball. The only person they could get to help them was him, because he, unlike the others, was small, timid, and weak. All you had to go was grab him by the scruff of his neck and boom, you had someone to listen to your stand-up routine or model your pink, frilly couldn't do that with Lynn because she'd ram her elbow in your guts and tell you to get bent. Lincoln wouldn't because if he tried, you could kick his little runt ass up and down the hallway until he begged forgiveness and promised to do whatever you wanted him to whenever you wanted him to do it. Because of that, he spent a lot of time with each one of his sisters and considered them _very close_. Life, however, had gotten in the way, and sometimes he was so consumed with the inner workings of his own existence - schedule, homework, making them sandmiches - that he didn't even think of his family for weeks on end.

Which is how, he reckoned, he was able to think five months wasn't a long time between visits. Jeez, it didn't even _feel _like five months. Time flies when you're having fun, right?

If working a shit job, studying, and being up to your eyeballs in student loan debt can be considered "fun."

Dressing in a pair of jeans and a white T-shirt covered in faded grease and mustard stains from work, Lincoln sat on the edge of the bed and pulled his shoes on. Luna and Sam both had the morning off, so he'd head over there on the bus and hang with them until they had to leave for work. He wasn't on the schedule at the deli, but Bob, who worked the days Lincoln didn't, was a pill head who didn't always come in when he was supposed to, so there was a good chance he would get called in anyway.

An hour later, after hitting the communal bathroom, Lincoln slung his backpack over his shoulder and left the building. The halls were eerily silent and the flickering fluorescent lights overhead lent it a decidedly horror-movie air that he didn't like. He expected a masked killer to step out of every doorway he passed, but he made it to the stairwell unmolested, and let out a breath he wasn't aware he'd been holding. He went down the steps, footfalls echoing behind him like the coming of ghostly doom, and stopped at the mailbox in the lobby.

Nothing.

Outside, the day was warm and airy, the scent of blossoming buds wrapping around his senses like a snake (_stare into my coils, lil' boy_). The traffic sounds from College Ave washed over him as he walked the three blocks from his dorm to the end of campus, a tapestry of swishing air, humming tires, beeping, and, once, someone yelling a startled, "I'm walkin' here!" During his ten minute trek, Lincoln allowed his mind to wander, and wound up coming back to Ronnie Anne.

When they were eleven, he and Ronnie Anne were best friends. They went to the arcade together, played video games together, told each other all their problems, and even kissed a few times, once with tongue. They were on the cusp of puberty, two kids dipping their toes into the murky and mysterious waters of sexuality, and if things had worked out differently, who knows? When she was almost thirteen, she, her mother, and her brother Bobby moved from Royal Woods to Detroit and, in the natural course of things, they lost touch. They were friends on Facebook and traded the occasional private message - Lincoln "liked" some of her pictures, and she his. After State accepted him last year, he messaged her and proposed the idea of them hanging out sometime. She said _Sure why not? _and deep down, Lincoln wondered if maybe they could pick things up where they left off all those years ago. He didn't particularly carry a flame for her - if he did say so himself - but he had good memories of their tie together and she _was _beautiful, so why not try? If it didn't work out, it didn't work out.

Looking back, he wondered if that wasn't his way of trying to latch onto a little bit of familiarity in a strange new environment. He had lived in Royal Woods, at home, his entire life, and suddenly he found himself a grown man practically on his own in a city he knew little about. Ronnie Anne was, in a way, like a life preserver.

Only things didn't work out.

At all.

See, somewhere, somehow, Ronnie Anne changed. Gone was playful tomboy of Lincoln's youth. In her place was an abrasive, loud-mouth woman who worked a dead end job and went clubbing every Friday and Saturday night. She was what Pop-Pop, dead these past two years, might call a "hood rat." Her idea of fun involved weed, alcohol, and partying, and the few times Lincoln met up with her, it felt almost like she was a different person entirely, an alien pod-woman who only _looked _like Ronalda Santiago, but wasn't really her.

Lincoln, on the other hand, was bookish and what Pop-Pop (bless his soul) would call "a real pencil-neck geek." He liked video games, Dungeons and Dragons, and _Trek Warz_. He still thought Ace Savvy was the man and _Kang of the Rang _remained his favorite epic fantasy film.

People change, he knew that, but he had an image of Ronnie Anne built up in his mind, and discovering that it was only a snapshot of a little girl who didn't exist anymore stung Lincoln deeply.

Worse was the thought that maybe...just maybe..._he _was the odd one here. Ronnie Anne wasn't that little girl anymore because little girls eventually grow up. Lincoln was, by and large, the same boy he was at eleven. He liked the same things, had a lot of the same opinions, you could say that, in essence, he had never grown up.

You'd be wrong, though.

Right?

Liking board games and science fiction didn't mean he wasn't an adult. He just liked what he liked. Ronnie Anne was the one who changed and really, did she change for the better? No, she hadn't.

That didn't stop the new and pressing self-doubts, and it didn't make him feel any better. Over the past two months he had been hyper-conscious of everything he did, liked, and said. Other boys his age went out with girls, played football, worked out, and other...well...grown-up things. He sat in front of a screen and played XBox Live with twelve-year-olds. Other guys his age didn't get as excited about things as he did. When the new _Trek Warz _movie came out last month, he was as giddy as a kid on Christmas...and that made him feel like crap. That's something a little boy would do, a man would acknowledge it with mild interest even if he _was _stoked for it.

He couldn't help himself, though. He was who he was.

Over the past few weeks, he had been coming to terms with that, and he was comfortable enough in his skin that playing DnD with his friends or reading Ace Savvy comics under a leafy tree in the commons didn't fill him with shame. He did, however, wonder if he was lacking something, some undefinable component of manhood.

A girlfriend?

Eh, maybe.

He'd never had a serious girlfriend outside of Ronnie Anne and like any normal guy, he wanted one, but he didn't see how that'd make him more grown-up. They joke about being with a girl making you a "man" but he knew immature man-boys who had girlfriends; it sure didn't help _them_.

He needed something else, but what?

Eight months in a bamboo cage?

He grinned. That was a reference to a video game. _Call of Honor: Aftermath. _In it, you play a guy who was taken POW in Vietnam and then comes home with a roaring case of PTSD. On level three, he gets into an argument with his wife and says, "I was a boy, then I spent eight months in a bamboo cage and came out a man."

As enticing as that sounded, Lincoln didn't think it would be any better than getting a girlfriend.

The northwest edge of State campus is bordered by Center Street, a broad lane boasting fast food joints, gas stations, and cheap motels where even cheaper hookers plied their not-so-secret trade. Every once in a while, one accosted Lincoln as he walked to or from the bus stop. They were all old, ugly, and had a look of shame in their drug-addled eyes. Lincoln had never taken one of them up on their offer (even the one who offered him a deep discount because he was "cute") and didn't see any way he ever would. Paying for sex is bad enough, but knowing that the distracted girl beneath you doesn't even want to be there...man, that's a new level of humiliation. The bus stop was on the corner of Center and Harley Staggers Avenue, its place marked by a simple glass and metal shelter over a bench. Trash, cigarette butts, and dead leaves littered the cracked concrete surrounding it, and a black guy in rags sat on the bench with his head down, his side to side sway telling Lincoln he was either drunk or high. Cars rushed by in either lane, and across the way, a couple construction workers in orange vests and yellow hard hats stood around a hole in the ground looking perplexed. _Huh, it's round._

Lincoln leaned against a NO PARKING sign and absently watched traffic pass. Though he called himself an adult...and was in the legal sense...he was still only eighteen. It didn't make much sense to beat himself up for not being 100 percent grown-up when he was still technically a teenager. He was dimly aware that he had a lot of life ahead of him and thought that he would eventually have all the experiences that go into making one a true adult. It was just...he didn't know. Things had been weird since leaving Royal Woods and while he thought he was adjusted, maybe he wasn't. This was a time of change and transformation and he if that doesn't put you off balance, nothing will.

Counting down the days to the beginning of spring break, he found himself getting more and more excited by the prospect of hanging out with Luna. Like Ronnie Anne, she was familiar, a beacon of comfort in a dark, crashing sea. Whenever he was around her, or any of his sisters for that matter, he felt a certain ease, the way you might when you slip on an old shoe broken in juuuust right. Right now, craning forward to see down the street (still no bus), he hummed with nervous energy. He was always inexplicably apprehensive about seeing his family after long periods of time, but as soon as he got around them, his tension melted instantly away.

Ten minutes later, the bus ambled down the street and came to a rolling stop. The doors clunked open and Lincoln climbed on. He dropped his change into the fare box then moved down the aisle, grabbing a seat toward the back. Cool air pumped from overhead vents, but it was still hot, and he opened the window.

Eleven stops separated State from Luna's neighborhood. The route skirted the edge of Downtown, ran between the ritzy Hamilton Hills district to the north and Callahan Point in the south, and crossed the interstate over I-69. At one point, the Detroit River appeared in the distance, and Canada beyond.

Twenty-five minutes after setting out, Lincoln yanked the pullcord and the bus pulled to the curb in front of a Subway with grimy windows. The buildings here were all old and decrepit, their brick faded smooth and dull red by time and the elements, in some cases covered in elaborate graffiti, and the people Lincoln saw milling on the corner looked rough and mean. He got up, shouldered his bag, and got off.

In the near half-hour since leaving State, the temperature had risen ten degrees, turning the morning almost uncomfortably warm. Lincoln threaded his thumb through the strap of his backpack and walked the two blocks to Luna's building, a towering brownstone with a fire escape and barred windows on the first floor. Fifty years ago, it may have been a nice place, but today it was run down and dumpy. In the lobby, cracked floor tiles clacked under his feet and a hand lettered sign reading OUT OF ORDUR was taped to the elevator, as it had been every time he visited Luna and Sam. A Mexican woman in a shower cap and rumpled pink dress stood at the bank of cubby mailboxes to the left, and when Lincoln passed, he distinctly heard a muttered _Jodida factura de electricidad_.

Translation: Fucking electric bill.

Dirt, dust, and bits of debris littered the stairs and on the second floor landing, an old white man with a bushy beard sat against the wall with a 40 between his legs. Luna and Sam's apartment was at the end of the fourth. The carpet was matted and splotched with stains and faint cooking odors lingered in the stagnant air. Luna and Sam's place was pleasant enough, but the rest of the building made him feel unexplainably claustrophobic, like the walls were closing in on him.

At their door, he knocked and waited. At the end of the hall, a white guy came out of an apartment, scratched his nuts and went into another apartment directly across the way.

The knob turned and Luna appeared in the frame, clad in denim cutoffs and a purple tank top. Her hair was shaggier than it was the last time he saw her and her face a little thinner, as though she were finally losing those last few ounces of baby fat. Her big, brown eyes lit up when she registered his presence, and a shit-eating grin ran across her thin lips. "Hey, bro," she said and threw her arms out.

"Hey," Lincoln said.

Lincoln took her into his arms and she wrapped slipped her arms around his waist, her face burrowing affectionately into his chest. Her thin body fused to his, her soft warmth and the steady beat of her heart comforting and familiar, like a fuzzy blanket. Lincoln breathed deeply of her scent, clean and bold like summer rain, and he rested his chin on her head, her shaggy brown hair tickling his skin.

He wouldn't say he was closer to Luna than his other sisters, but, he supposed, he was. He didn't hug and cuddle Luan or Lynn the way he did Luna. Some people might call it weird, but their affection for one another was pure, innocent, and natural. Long ago, her constantly touching him, looking at him, and smiling at him when they were together made him uncomfortable, but now that he was older and had tasted the cold, bitter wine of a cruel and indifferent world, he appreciated it.

"I missed you," she said soberly.

"I missed you too," Lincoln said.

Without warning, Luna squeezed his as tight as she could, and his spine cracked in at least three places. He let out a breathless umph, then hissed through his teeth when she slapped his back as hard as she could.

Alright then.

If that's how it's gonna be.

He did the same, and she yelped.

She shoved him away with a laugh and swiped her bangs out of her eyes. "Don't you know you're not supposed to hit a girl?"

"I didn't hit, I smacked."

Luna bit her bottom lip and faked a punch to his stomach. Lincoln jumped back and crossed his arms defensively over his guts. "That counts as hitting," Luna said.

Inside, Luna closed the door behind them. Sunlight streamed through the windows and suffused the tidy living, lending it a bright and happy air. The walls here were clean and the carpet freshly vacuumed; an apple scented candle flickered on the coffee table and the lemony smell of Lysol found his nose. Sam lay stretched out on the couch in a pair of jeans and a black T-shirt with KORN across the chest. The remote rested on her stomach and her hands were laced behind her head. "Hey, Linc," she said.

"Hey," he said.

Luna took his bag and sat it in the corner, then the three of them sat on the couch, Lincoln in the middle and Luna snuggling up to him like a satisfied cat. "How was the ride over?" Sam asked.

"It was alright," Lincoln shrugged. "Saw a couple winos."

Sam snickered. "Was that dude still laid out on the landing?"

"Nah, he was sitting up when I walked by."

Sam hung her head. "He's been living there for, like, a week."

"He's fine," Luna said. "He says hi when he's awake."

"He didn't say it, but he looked it," Lincoln quipped.

Sam laughed and Luna rolled her eyes. "Okay, Luan," Luna said.

"That wasn't a pun, though."

"It also wasn't funny."

Ow.

And thus started the weirdest week of Lincoln Loud's life.


	3. Sowing the Seeds of Love

There was a park on the edge of Spruce Street where dense bushes hid used needles and empty beer cans and polluted duck ponds festered like open sores. It was about as romantic as a knocked-over porta-potty, but romance was in the air anyway. Luna and Lincoln walked and talked like two lovers catching up after a long tome apart (and before epic reunion sex), and Sam walked slighly behind them, eyes darting apprecatively from one butt to the other. She pictured Lincoln's cheeks flexing and tightening as he thrust into his sister and a little shiver went down her spine. Luna prattled on and on about work and hers and Sam's friends, and every time Lincoln cracked a joke, she laughed and touched his arm. Oh, yeah, there was no denying it, she had it bad, even if she didn't think she did.

Hm. How could she get them into bed with each other? For all of Luna's subtle little flirting, Lincoln was completely oblivious. Understandable. I mean, what normal person would automatically pick up on their sister liking them? That's not even a place most people's minds would go. How would he react if he _did _figure it out? He didn't look like he shared Luna's feelings. He looked like a regular guy hanging out with his older sis. Luna was primed and ready (though she'd never admit it and probably wouldn't act on it) but he might need some persuasion.

After the park, they all walked over to Papi's, a Mexican pizza joint where you could get a refried bean pizza slice for a dollar. A fan positioned on the counter barely stirred the hot air and mariachi music filtered from unseen speakers. Luna and Lincoln sat at a table along the wall while Sam went up to the counter and ordered three carne asada slices and three cans of Coke. Luna, legs crossed daintily at the knee, planted her chin in her upturned palm and listened intently as Lincoln told her something, then broke out in a sunny grin. _I wanna eat your ass tonight, sis. _

Sam doubted that's what it was, but a girl can hope, can't she?

While she waited for their pizza, she wracked her brain for a way to get Lincoln balls deep in Luna. Maybe she was overthinking this, All she really had to do was whisper a little in Luna's ear, y'know, get her to embrace the incest slut within. Lincoln...well, Lincoln was a guy, and guys are easy to work on. All you gotta do is get them hot and bothered enough, and they'll turn to warm, sticky putty in your hand.

Food in hand, she brought it over to the table and sat next to Luna. "...kind of sucks," Lincoln was saying.

"Yeah, I know," Luna said sympathetically. "It's her loss, though."

Her loss, huh? "What are we talking about?" Sam asked.

"Ronnie Anne," Luna said.

Ah. Ronnie Anne was Lincoln's old girlfriend or something. Sam wasn't exactly clear. This afforded her the perfect opening to plant a few itty bitty seeds."Yeah," she said, "it _is _her loss. I mean, you're a great guy. Sweet, caring, considerate. What girl _wouldn't _want you?" She watched Luna in her periphery. The Loud girl was too busy figuring a way to pick up her pizza without spilling all the toppings to comprehend what Sam was doing.

"Thanks," Lincoln said with a humble flush.

"Any girl would be lucky to have you." She glanced at Luna. "Right, Lune?"

"Yeah," Luna agreed, "just keep looking, man, you'll find someone." She took a bite of her pizza and washed it down with Coke.

Sam opened her mouth, then stopped. Should she…?

Yeah, why not? "She might even be closer than you think."

Luna shot her a dirty look, and Lincoln shrugged one shoulder, completely missing the suggestive hilt in her voice. "Maybe," he said.

"You just gotta open your eyes and see what's right in front of you."

That earned another glare from Luna, and it took everything Sam had to keep from giggling like a naughty girl. Oooh, this was fun already.

Lincoln stared meditatively down at his pizza, processing what she had said as though it were vague and arcane wisdom and not her literally telling him to notice his delicious older sister.

"Like...let me ask you...what are you looking for in a girl?"

He sat back, crossed his arms, and rolled his eyes up to the ceiling. His arms weren't very muscular, but they were lean and toned, and his eyes were very much like Luna's; brown and deep and flecked with strands of gold that sparkled in the right light. Sam could totally see herself pushing him back against the bed, climbing on top of him, and slowly sinking herself onto him.

Was he a virgin? If so, she wanted him to fuck Luna first (ummm, losing your V-card to your sister...Jesus), but she'd be his second, and she'd ride him so hard he wouldn't have a third.

"I don't really know," he said at lenght, "I haven't really been thinking much about it, so...I'm not sure. Someone I can relate to, I guess."

_You can relate to Luna, _she thought. Out loud: "So, like, someone sweet, caring, and nice...like you?"

He pursed his lips in thought, then nodded. "Yeah, I guess."

"So...someone like Luna?"

Luna's elbow crashed into her side and hot bomb blast of pain detonated in her midsection. A breathless _umph _escaped through her teeth and burning tears welled in her eyes. Lincoln, contemplating his pizza again, didn't notice. To her surprise, he said, "Yeah, I guess. Luna's great and I can see myself being with a girl like her."

In the corner of Sam's eye, Luna's eyes widened and deep crimson tinged her cheeks. Sam rubbed her bruised kidneys and flashed her girlfriend a victorious smile that looked suspiciously like a grimace of pain. So little Lincy could see himself with a girl _like _Luna, could he? Then why not with Luna herself?

Lincoln looked up from his food. "Is there a bathroom here?"

Sam twisted around in her chair and pointed it out. "Around the corner."

"Thanks."

Sliding his chair back, Lincoln got up and crossed the dining room. Sam watched his butt until he was gone, then turned to Luna.

Ooooh, if looks could kill. Luna's normally pretty face was clenched and red, and her narrow eyes swirled with outrage. She fisted her hands, and Sam cringed. Luna had never been the domestic violence type, but there's a first time for everything. "What the fuck was _that?" _

"What?" Sam asked innocently.

"_That!" _Luna said and crazily flailed her arms, as if _that _were all around them.

Should she tell Luna? Or should she play dumb? "What?" she asked again. "I was just telling him he'll find his Luna one day."

"You're trying something, aren't you?"

Sam put on her blankest face. _Huh? Does not compute. _"Why would you think that?" She couldn't resist adding a little barb. "Do you have a guilty conscious?"

Crossing her arms, Luna glared.

Alright, fine, she'd come clean. "You obviously want him, Lune, stop fighting it and just do it."

Luna opened her mouth, then grasped for words. "I don't want my brother, okay? I told you, it was a dumb thing when I was a kid. Yes, I'm happy to see my brother, is that alright with you? A-And why do you even care about this so much? What's wrong with you? You _want _me to cheat on you? With my brother? Like...really?"

A man on his way to a table beyond theirs shot them a shocked glance, and Luna's face burned with embarrassment. She was flustered three different ways and it was _hot_. "You like him and that's okay, he's family," Sam said. "That doesn't bother me. There's some lingering feelings there and just think you need to get it out of your system. It'd bring you guys closer, too."

Luna's head spun, and she held up a hand. She gaped like a fish flopping breathlessly on a dock, at a loss for words, then turned away. "J-Just knock it off."

"Come on," Sam urged, "he's sweet, nice, kind, cute, tell me you don't want him."

"I don't."

There was no force in her voice.

Sam started to press further, but Lincoln came back and dropped into his chair. Throughout the rest of lunch, Luna barely spoke, and knowing her the way she did, Sam could tell that her words were rattling through her skull like BBs in a tin can. Maybe her yen for Lincoln was subconscious, but right now, it was front and center in her mind. The seeds had been planted.

On the walk home, Luna trudged along with her hands in her pockets and her gaze downcast. At home, they both got ready for work while Lincoln lounged on the couch like he paid rent. Since she didn't have to leave as early as Sam, Luna hopped in the shower. They hadn't spoken since the restaurant but Luna's face said everything: She was still considering Sam's words, thinking, soul-searching, perhaps even self-loathing because of her deviant desires.

Or maybe she was jilling off and pretending her younger brother was eating her.

Either way, the ball was rolling on the Luna front, now for Lincoln. He didn't seem to have latent feelings for Luna so he'd need a little more work.

Sitting on the foot of the bed, Sam pulled on her shoes and socks, then went out into the living room. She went over to the couch and Lincoln sat up to make room for her. "Hey, Linc," she greeted and sat. "What are we watching?"

"I don't even know," Lincoln said, "some random show I found."

On TV, a rail thin man with scrawny arms and a hat with a comically long bill (compensating for something?) stood next to a woman with short, messy blonde hair. She jabbed her finger at the audience and let out a mad cry of, "Drink water!"

The man dabbed.

"I think I've seen this," Sam said even though she hadn't. She sat back, crossed her arms and legs, and blew a puff of air that stirred her blonde bangs. "Any plans for tonight?" she asked.

"Not really," Lincoln said, "I'm just gonna hang out."

"Kind of a suck way to spend Spring Break," Sam said.

Lincoln shrugged one shoulder. "Eh, it's fine by me. It's nice to having to stress over class and stuff."

"Yeah," Sam said, then, "it's nice having you here too. Luna's really excited." She watched him from the corner of her eye to gauge his reaction. As expected, he didn't really have one. Why would he? His sister was happy to see him. What's the big? Little did he know, Sam meant a different _kind _of excited, a special kind of excited, an excitement that left a girl flushed, tingly, and wet.

"I'm pretty excited too," he said.

The lack of a yummy bulge in his pants - a periscope seeking sisterly taint - begged to differ. He wasn't excited-excited, but that would change. Oh, it would change. "She really misses you and she's always talking about you. How great you are, how close you guys were when you were kids." Sam smiled because Luna was never more lively and beautiful than she was when she talked about Lincoln. "Having you here means a lot to her."

Was it her imagination, or was Lincoln blushing ever so slightly? "Yeah, I'm happy to be here too."

She patted his leg, then, on a whim, squeezed his thigh. His blush deepened to scarlet and, like a shark catching a whiff of blood, Sam grinned. D'ya like that, Lincy? She almost moved onto his crotch, but let go instead. Lincoln's face blazed with color, and he quickly rubbed the back of his neck for something to do. An idea came to Sam, and she was still thinking on it when she left fifteen minutes later.

The simple plans are usually the best, they say (or so she thought), and this plan...well, this plan was as simple as they come.

All she had to do…

...was drive Lincoln wild with lust.

Then, when he was so horny he couldn't think straight…

Doing his sister wouldn't seem so bad.

* * *

Luna Loud pressed her forehead against the slick shower wall and let the warm water pound down on the back of her head. Rivulets sluiced down the sides of her face and over her rigid nipples. It felt good but also hurt a little; they were extremely sensitive, and every touch, brush, and tweak brought her to that curious and alluring juncture of pleasure and pain. She ran her fingers through her sodden hair and turned; the spray beat against the middle of her back, and gooseflesh raked her areolas. She bent, picked up a bottle of shampoo, and squeezed some into her cupped palm.

Usually, she showered at night because it helped relax her, but Sam's constant glances were starting to unnerve her and if she didn't get away from them, she'd go off.

_Was _Sam constantly glancing at her, or was she just paranoid?

_Do you have a guilty conscious? _Sam had asked.

No! She absolutely did _not_. Why would she? She hadn't done anything wrong, literally anything. Except, apparently, for telling Sam about her dumb teenage crush on Lincoln. Wow, fuck me, right? I thought I could tell my girlfriend something and she'd be cool about it. Instead, she was...doing whatever the hell she was doing. _Accept it, Luna, I don't mind if you shag your brother_. D-Did she think she was helping? _There's lingering feelings there, Lune, just give into them. _

There was nothing to give into, though! Nothing at all! When she was fifteen, she was confused, her body was changing, and her mind was in an awkward state of solidifying like cake in an oven. She was dumb, hormonal, and the only guy she really knew was Lincoln. They used to sit on her bunk bed and braid vests and belts, make signs for the many concerts she went to, and sometimes...they just talked. Small things, but she cherished them so much at the time, and looking back, they were still precious to her.

She hesitated to call what she felt for Lincoln a "crush." Thoughts of him didn't keep her awake at night, they didn't plague her during the day, she never got that little flutter in the pit of her stomach when she was around him the way she did with Sam. Being with Lincoln just made her feel...warm inside, like sitting in front of a low, crackling fire on a cold winter day. He understood her in a way that their other siblings didn't; she told him things that she had told no one else to that point. He never judged her, never made fun of her, and when she looked in his eyes, she saw love and acceptance. Yeah, maybe it was a little messed up, but gazing deeply into his eyes, there were many, many times she almost kissed him, many, many times she felt that distinct magnetic pull that you should never, ever feel for your brother.

But that was a long time ago. She didn't feel like that anymore, no matter _what _Sam said.

Did she?

That thought gave her pause.

Well...maybe not entirely, but being with Lincoln did make her feel good, just like it used to, and every time she thought of him, she caught herself smiling.

She didn't love him in that way, though. And she never did. Look, she grew up in a big family. Her parents worked crazy long hours to support them and once they were home, they had eleven kids pulling them in eleven different directions. They didn't have very much time or attention to give, and kids thrive on attention, you know? If they don't get it from Mom and Dad, they get it from somewhere else: Trolling 4chan, defacing school property, opening their legs for the first guy to call them pretty. Luna, and her sisters, too, got it from Lincoln.

It sounds a little sick when you put it that way, but it was true. No one wanted to listen to her music or talk to her or just _be _there for her but Lincoln. He kind of did that for everyone, and Luna loved him all the more for it.

It made sense that she'd get mixed up and confused in her feelings for Lincoln. He was there for her when no one else was, he was a boy, and with all that new and powerful emotions in her heart and body, it was easy to mistake one thing for another. Things were different now. She was a grown woman in a committed relationship with someone she loved. The dust of puberty had settled, her body was no longer a seething ball of hormones and her mind was as clear and matured as it could possibly get. She loved her brother, but in a completely normal way.

_Lingering feelings. _

No.

There _were _no lingering feelings.

Were there?

It was technically possible, she guessed, but...no, she was overthinking it, that's all. She was normal, healthy, and was morally certain that she was _not _into her younger brother.

Only…

...she wasn't. Not really. Sam said she glowed when Lincoln was around, and she did. She was happy to see Luan and Leni and everyone else, but not like she was with Lincoln. She chalked it up to their special bond, but what if there _was _something more there? What if she _did _have suppressed desires?

Ignore them.

That was all she _could _do. What alternative did she have? Pursue him? For one, she was with someone already and perfectly, honestly happy. For another...that's some shit you just don't do. It's wrong and disgusting and...just no.

Lucky for her she didn't _have _lingering feelings.

Nope.

Not a one.

She was just on edge.

Thanks to Sam's dumb ass. Seriously, what the fuck? When they got home later, they needed to have a talk. Whatever Sam thought she was doing, she needed to cut it out and recognize that Luna wanted a normal relationship with Lincoln and nothing else.

Cutting the spray, she pulled the shower curtain open, bent, plucked the towel off the closed toilet lid, and dried off. She got out, wrapped the towel around herself, and went out into the bedroom, the cool air sending goosebumps up and down her arms. She selected a pair of jeans and a purple tank top from the dresser, then raided the sock drawer for underwear.

Nothing.

Goddamn it. She glanced at the overfull hamper next to the bed and rolled her eyes. There was a washer and dryer in the basement but they were both busted and getting to the laundromat down the street was a pain in the ass, so she and Sam kept putting off washing their clothes until the last possible minute. She had tomorrow off so she could do it then. Maybe she could even con Lincoln into carrying the hamper.

Hurriedly dressing, she put her socks and shoes on and went out into the living room, where Lincoln sat on the couch watching TV. "Sam already leave?" she asked.

"Yeah, she left about ten minutes ago," Lincoln replied.

Luna went into the kitchenette off the living room, opened the fridge, and bent to grab a can of soda. She leaned against the counter, popped the lid, and took a long drink. The whole time, she watched Lincoln with the guarded wariness of a woman staring down a potentially dangerous snake. She took him in slowly, starting at his socked feet and ending with his snowy white hair, and was surprised by the quickening of her heartbeat. Her stomach stirred like supple leaves in a summery breeze, and warmth spread across her cheeks. Deep inside, she felt that old familiar pull, and her heart sank.

No.

N-NO.

She whipped her head away and drew a shaky breath. She realized she was gripping the can so tightly that her fingertips made dimples in the aluminium and loosened her hold.

What was _that? _

Nothing, she told herself, it was nothing. Sam's shit was starting to get to her. Once she got her mind off of it for a while, she'd be fine.

She finished the soda, tossed the can into the trash, and went into the living room. Lincoln, one arm bent behind his head, stared at the screen, unwitting and unaware. For some reason, that made Luna feel dirty. She opened her mouth, hesitated, and said, "I-I'm gonna head out."

"Alright," Lincoln said. He sat up like a soldier coming to attention, and Luna's heart jolted against her ribs. Though it wasn't like him, she expected him to get up and sweep her into a hug. She'd hugged him a dozen times today...and enjoyed it...but the prospect of his body against hers, his heart beating next to her heart...terrified her. "You need me to do anything around here?"

_Stop being so fucking sexy, _jumped to mind, and a sharp, horrified laugh rose in her throat. She swallowed it down and grimaced as though it were misshapen in her throat. She didn't really think he was sexy, she was just making light of the situation. Heh. "Uh..n-no, I-I'm good, just hang out or something. This is your vacation." Her words tumbled out in a rush and her voice cracked here and there. Lincoln's brow arched quizzically and she felt her face flushing with embarrassment. The pit of her stomach quivered like a plate of Jello and she trembled lightly. Was it hot in here? Was the apartment shrinking, getting smaller, closing around her like a vengeful fist?

Jesus, she had to get out of here.

"Uh...there's frozen dinners and stuff in the freezer and, uh, stuff in the cabinets i-if you want it."

Lincoln started to speak, but before he could, she spun on her heels. "Gotta go, I'm running late. Later, bro."

She rushed out as fast as she could without _looking _like she was rushing, and in the hallway, she leaned back against the door and took a deep breath. Stupid Sam, this was all _her _fault. Things were just fine until she got Luna thinking. You know what they say about still waters and disturbing the silt at the bottom: Makes things muddled or something. She couldn't remember, Pop-Pop used to say it, but...yeah, her water was crystal, man, then Sam messed with the silt and now it was all murky and shit.

All she needed was a few hours away to clear her head. Things would be better tonight. She'd forget all of this happened.

Mind made up, Luna went to work.


	4. Water and Sunlight

Luna was mad.

Sam couldn't say she was surprised. She knew, in the back of her mind, that once she and Luna were alone in bed, Luna would have something to say. That was kind of her MO. She'd brood for a while, get quiet, look thoughtful, then, after taking in every thought and processing it through the databank of her brain, she'd react. All afternoon at work, Sam dreamed up a contingency for every possible scenario, from anger to confession. She seriously doubted Luna would come clean about her feelings for Lincoln, but hey, maybe.

The front office at the radio station closed at nine, an hour before Luna got off, and after closing up, Sam walked through the warm May night with her hands in the pockets of her denim jacket. As she made her way through the maze-like warrens of the ghetto, unafraid even though she was a 110 pound white girl, she plotted. At home, she slipped her key into the lock, twisted the knob, and went inside. Lincoln sat on the couch with a bowl of icecream in his lap. He looked up and for the briefest of seconds seemed to tense, as though he'd been caught doing something wrong. Sam came to a halt and gaped. "Dude, really? My Yögen Frau?"

Lincoln froze. "...Luna said I could eat it."

"That's mine, though. Did she say 'eat Sam's Rocky Road'?"

Lincoln's eyes darted left and right as if seeking some means of escape, and Sam smirked. He was kind of cute when he was scared. "I'm messing with you," she said. She kicked the door shut behind her, crossed the living room, and sat next to him. Lincoln relaxed a little and tentatively scooped up a bit of the decadent chocolate, as though hesitant she might change her mind, his arm flexing when he worked the spoon. Normally, masculinity didn't turn Sam on, but Lincoln's did. Her fantasy had come to hinge on his being a boy and Luna a girl - brother and sister - and for the moment, at least, she could appreciate his manliness.

Not that there was much of it. He certainly wasn't the manliest man in man town. His features were soft and delicate, his skin nearly translucent. His slight overbite and cowlick had always reminded her of a rabbit, and his lank frame bespoke physical weakness.

Come to think of it, he was exactly the type of guy Sam had always gone for. Huh. She'd never looked at him that way, but now that she saw it, she was a little surprised she'd never noticed it before. Of course, she'd always just known him as her girlfriend's little brother and nothing more - he was there, but in the background, hazy and unfocused. She was with Luna and Luna only, and didn't make a habit of checking out guys (or girls, for that matter).

That was then, though, and this was now. If she had permission from his sister, she'd jump him immediately. Have the required hall pass, however, she did not. Frown. Oh well, it wouldn't be satisfying anyway. Not without first watching him sheath himself in his sister's bubbling loins.

Come what may with Luna, she was already mulling it over, focused on it, thinking about it, giving the seeds the water and sunlight they needed to blossom. Lincoln, on the other hand, she understood still needed a little push.

And she knew just how to give it to him.

Now a bit more confident that his sister's girlfriend wasn't going to take back what was rightfully hers, Lincoln chiseled himself off another chunk of icecream (it'd hardened a bit from being at the back of the freezer), staring at the TV, where a giant letter D stomped a potato chip with bat wings into the ground. CARTOON WRESTLING ASSOCIATION flashed across the screen. Sam scooted a little closer and half turned to face him. "I am kind of hungry, though," she said.

"Can I have a bite?"

"Of course!" He answered quickly, still feeling a bit guilty, "I'll go get another spoon." But before he could stand up, the blonde placed her hand on his shoulder.

"Just use yours." She declared simply, "I've got dish duty this week, so the less stuff in the sink the better."

Lincoln almost recoiled, stunned at the suggestion.

"What's the matter?" Sam asked, instantly noting his apprehension, "You afraid I got cooties?" She arched an eyebrow, as though unimpressed. Secretly she relished watching how he suddenly squirmed. Luna's little brother just made messing with him way too fun.

"N-no! It's just..." Lincoln's stared at her, unsure what to say. He had figured anyone that lived with a hard rocker like his sister wouldn't be the prissy type, but wasn't this a bit much?

"Come on, quit holding out on me." She chided, swatting his leg. She noted, with no small amount of gratification, how the boy tensed up when her hand rested on it. Good.

After a long moment of inner conflict Lincoln finally sighed, reminding himself that he was a guest in her home, before moving to hand her the spoon.

"Just feed me." She said, waving it off.

Then he suddenly looked really uncomfortable. The way his forehead crinkled reminded her so much of Luna it was uncanny. "Feed you?" he asked.

By way of answering, she opened her mouth expectantly, trying not to laugh at his expression. Like his sister, he was cute when he was befuddled. He flicked his eyes down to the bowl and slowly shook his head as though he was still processing what he was being asked to do. Sam tried not to be offended. Was feeding a pretty girl really so much to ask? "Stop stalling," she said,

"I'm starving here." She slapped her hands on her knees, leaned forward, and tilted her head slightly back. Her hair brushed her ear and she tucked it behind before reassuming the position.

"Is there..." Lincoln shut his eyes for a moment, at last bringing himself to barely accept doing what she'd proposed, "...Anything you want? Marshmellows, pecans..." Lincoln asked the air.

His cheeks were red and his voice was hesitant.

"Whatever you want to give me," she purred. Her heart slammed against her breast and her center stirred at how far she was pushing her little game. A small part of her...or maybe not so small...kind of hoped he put his hands on her shoulders, laid her gently back, and gave her his virginity. Another, much bigger part hoped Luna came home, caught them, and joined in. She could guide his dick to Luna's opening and give him that one last nudge past the point of no return.

Or she could just take it for herself.

Instead of making love to her, he scooped up a lump of icecream that had gotten softer from his lap warming the bowl and held it out to her, the spoon shaking a bit in his hand. Sam bent forward, making sure to arch her back like a cat slinking toward its prey, and took it between her lips. Feeling bold, she locked eyes with Lincoln and slowly, teasingly, pulled back. Lincoln gaped at her, surprise written across his features, then looked quickly down. He'd kind of been expecting her to tell him she was kidding at the last second. Sam chewed up the harder bits of fudge, then swallowed. "Marshmellows, please.'

Lincoln took a moment to compose himself before digging the spoon into a more marshmellow-y part of the mass. Sam leaned over, rolled her eyes up to Lincoln's, and sensually licked the spoon clean. Lincoln watched, bewildered, and Sam let out an obscene moan. His face turned an even deeper shade of red, a haze seeming to come over his eyes, just at the edge of his nervousness.

He was getting turned on. She could smell it on him, a dank, wild scent that flipped switches in her brain she didn't even know were there. Her heart raced and her body sizzled with the naughty delight of doing something she knew she wasn't supposed to. She discreetly slipped her hands between her legs and squeezed her thighs together, the sensation knocking a gasp from her lips. Her eyelids fluttered and she moaned again. "S-sho good..." The girl gave her uneasy houseguest by way of explanation around the spoon. Some part of her understood she was taking her farce too far, but she didn't care.

Going into a sort of hindbrain autopilot, Lincoln limited himself to wordlessly scooping another ball of icecream. Sam practically pounced forward when he held the spoon out for her. The girl gave another low moan, her half-lidded eyes locking on to his again, and he almost jolted. As he began to pull it back, her hands flew up to hold his arm in place. Her strong, guitarist fingers curled tightly over his wrist like the talons of a predatory bird and the feeling made goosebumps surface on his skin. Lincoln watched as she hollowed out her cheeks and sucked the spoon clean, only pulling away when every trace of the creamy treat on it had disappeared down her throat. She almost opened her mouth wide to show him what he'd deposited over her tongue was all gone, but settled for licking her lips and flashing him a knowing smirk. Lincoln's breath hitched and one of Sam's hands on his arm subtly fell away to begin creeping between his legs, but all at once she realized what she was about to do and drew away at the last moment.

That had been close. Time to stop.

She innocently cleared her throat, sitting up straight as though nothing had happened. Lincoln gawked at her like she'd sprouted an extra head, then snapped his mouth shut and uttered a broken chuckle. "G-Guess you were really hungry." He said, though the words were quiet and unsure, as though he was trying to convince himself more than anything.

Sam's eyes sidled over to his crotch of their own accord. The outline of his erection was unmistakable, and her core pinched. She took a deep, shivery breath and licked her lips again. They were dry. Why were they dry? "Now I'm thirsty," she whined, not sure if she was being suggestive or not.

"Y-You want a drink?" The boy asked, thinking to create some distance so he could clear his head a bit. She was close enough he could smell the shampoo on her hair and after her earlier display, the feminine, pleasing scent disordered his thoughts too much for comfort. This was his sister's girlfriend, he kept trying to remind himself, the repeated mantra providing a guilty, unpleasant edge to his lust that made him feel even worse when he remembered the sensation that had briefly come over him.

"I'll get it," she quickly answered, beating him to the punch.

She got up and went into the kitchen, where she grabbed a soda from the fridge and popped it open. Her knees quivered like jelly the moment she could hide them behind the counter and she was so wet she almost schlicked when her thighs rubbed together. The thu-thump of her heartbeat echoed through her head and when she twisted around to hide her face from Lincoln, her stiff nipples grazed the fabric of her shirt. She blew a puff of air that did little to relieve the pressure weighing down her chest and raked her fingers through her hair. She figured he'd get turned on, but she was absolutely not expecting to get turned on herself.

At least...not like that. She almost grabbed his junk, for Christ's sake, and once she felt its warm fullness underneath her hand, there'd be no going back.

She couldn't let that happen, though. This wasn't about her and Lincoln, this was about him and Luna.

In truth, the rocker couldn't really explain why she was being so daring. Why she was so hypnotized by the idea of Lincoln and Luna together to the point it pushed her to recklessness.

She'd always been driven in her goals, of course; it kind of came with the territory when you pursued a dream as demanding as being a professional musician. Still, she'd never let herself just lose control like that, even then. She was obsessing and she knew it. Honestly, it sort of felt like the discovery that Sam had stumbled on to was so heavy that just by knowing about it, it'd changed things. Changed her, even; she'd gone from someone that didn't even know she had an incest kink to now being fully committed, she realized, to making Luna and Lincoln Loud fuck. She was seeing the siblings in a whole new light, and suddenly every half-remembered interaction she'd ever seen them have from the time they were all kids had become fodder for countless filthy fantasies. God, if she'd known then...

She momentarily put those thoughts aside. Setting the can down on the counter, she went into the bedroom, kicked out of her shoes, and used the bathroom. Done, she got undressed and stood naked before the dresser, rummaging for something to wear before picking an oversized T-shirt that stopped halfway to her knees. She slid it over her head and studied herself in the full length mirror on the back of the door. The material formed to curves of her body and if she sat too quickly, or bent over, Lincoln would see everything she had. Should she go so far as to flash him, though? Probably not, especially not after what happened in the living room just now. She came dangerously close to taking what was rightfully Luna's. She wanted him horny and off balance, that way he'd be weak, willing, and unable to resist when it came time to penetrate his big sister, but if she wasn't careful, things might not go according to plan.

She'd go easy for the night, she figured, and start fresh tomorrow.

When she went back into the living room, she was surprised and a little a little disappointed to find Luna sitting on the couch. In the kitchen, Lincoln washed his plate, his shoulders tensing a little when he heard her.

"Hey," Sam said and sat next to her girlfriend.

"Hey," Luna replied curtly.

Oh, right, she was probably still mad.

Across the room, Lincoln cut the sink and sat his plate in the drying rack. He came into the living room with his head ashamedly down, and scurried into the bedroom. A moment later, the bathroom door shut and locked. "How was your day?" Sam asked.

"Long," Luna said. "Yours?"

Sam went back to face fucking the fork until Lincoln shook with need, and suppressed a wicked grin. "Okay. Not much happened."

Later on, in bed, tension choked the air like the brewing of a summer thunderstorm, and Sam steeled herself for Luna's outrage. "Whatever that shit was earlier, don't do it again," Luna said.

They were sitting up, the lamp on the nightstand casting a circle of muddy light.

"What shit?" Sam asked.

"That talk about me and Lincoln. I don't want my brother and I don't want him wanting me. I told you how I felt about him when I was a kid expecting you to understand. I was mixed-up and confused. I thought you'd support me and not try to encourage something that isn't there."

Sam started to speak, but Luna cut her off. "I love my brother and I value our relationship, don't try to ruin it, please."

Those words hit Sam like a punch to the guts. "Ruin it? Luna, you obviously carry a flame for him. You practically melt every time he's around. You think that's healthy? You think bottling up your emotions and not acting on them is okay?"

"Yes," Luna spat. She realized what she said and binked. "I don;t have feelings for him. That's over and done with and it wasn't even that serious to begin with."

After so many years together, Sam could read Luna like a book, and the tell-all written on Luna's face betrayed her. Sam sighed. "Look, Lune, I know you feel for him. You can lie to yourself all you want but you can't lie to me. You said you wanted me to support you, well I'm supporting you. I'm telling you it's okay. It's okay to feel that way about him. He's kind, he's sweet, he's cute, he's, like, the perfect guy and it's not gross because he's your brother. That doesn't even matter. It doesn't matter to me and it shouldn't matter to you."

Luna's eyes narrowed. In them, Sam glimpsed something she couldn't say she expected.

Fear.

Luna was afraid of admitting her feelings. Not to Sam, but to herself. Lincoln meant a lot to her and if Sam knew her the way she thought she did, Luna was scared of hurting their relationship.

Sam took Luna's hand in hers and gave it an encouraging squeeze. "I love you, Luna, and I want you to be happy. Lincoln makes you happy and, I think, being with him will make you even happier. It'll also bring you guys closer together."

Luna's features softened and she let out a deep breath. "I don't have feelings for him," she said lamely. "And if I did, he wouldn't have them back."

The hurt brimming in her voice pierced Sam's heart. "You don't know that," she said. "He might. He already said he wants a girl like you."

"Like me," Luna said, "but not me. I'm his sister, Sam."

"I know that, I -"

Luna closed her eyes and turned away. "Just leave me alone." She reached out and snapped off the light, plunging the room into darkness, then got under the blankets.

For a moment, Sam sat there, frozen in place, then she laid down too. Her chest crushed underneath her guilt and Luna's voice resounded through her head. That Luna was in love - yes, love - with Lincoln was clear. That was was terrified of confessing that love and possibly destroying their relationship was even clearer. Sam was so caught up in satisfying her own lust that she lost sight of the fact that real emotions were involved here...the emotions of the girl she loved.

Oh, she still wanted it to happen for herself, but now...now she wanted it to happen for Luna just as much, if not more.

And she would do whatever it took to ensure it did.

That, she promised.


	5. Land of Confusion

Between school and routinely working the early shift at the deli on the weekend, Lincoln Loud was accustomed to rising early. His first full day at Luna's, he woke shortly after sunrise. The window flanking the couch was open to admit the breeze, and through it filtered the sounds of the city: Honking, talking, loud music, and the mournful wail of distant sirens. He rolled onto his side and tried to bring his knees to his chest, but there wasn't enough space. Sighing, he stretched out on his back once more and stared up at the ceiling, where tendrils of sunlight crisscrossed the plastering in a brilliant latticework of amber and gold. The fog permeating his brain began to gradually subside and his body to dethaw. His back and neck were both stiff from sleeping scrunched up on his side and his grainy eyes throbbed like a battered thumb in a cartoon; it was already too late to fall back asleep, so he would just have to deal with it.

Sitting up, he rubbed the back of his head, then stretched. He tried to get to his feet, but vertigo overcame him and he fell back onto his butt like a turtle on its shell.

Alright.

He needed a minute.

Pressing his fingertips to his temples, he massaged in firm, slow circles. As much as he loved Luna and felt at ease around her, he never slept well when he stayed with her...or in his old room at home, for that matter. Maybe it was a social anxiety thing, but he could never get fully comfortable in someone else's home. When he laid on the couch and watched TV here, he had the nagging feeling that he was doing something wrong...taking advantage of Sam and Luna's hospitality, perhaps. Yesterday, when Sam got home and -

At the thought of his sister-in-law's name, Lincoln flashed back to Sam virtually giving head to his fork. That was...interesting. Sam kidded around a lot, but never really about _that _kind of thing. She wasn't...coming onto him, was she?

He entertained that possibility for only a brief second before rejecting it. No, she was just trying to get a rise of her him. Classic Sam.

And it worked.

A little _too _well.

It would be a lie to say he hadn't noticed how pretty Sam was. Slim with perky breasts, curvy hips, and big, sparkling blue eyes, she was, Lincoln reflected, the type of girl he would pursue if he were interested in pursuing girls. Even so, he couldn't say he was attracted to her. She was Luna's girlfriend and looking at her or thinking about her in that context felt inherently _wrong_. Despite that, remembering the way her pink lps curled around the tines, how her tongue gently lapped the metal, how her misty eyes gazed into his, made Lincoln squirm. He laid awake for well over an hour last night thinking of her and hating himself for it. He finally forced thoughts of her away and slept, but his doze was thin and fitful, and he was pretty sure he dreamed of her...or something to do with her…

A good night's sleep had cleared his mind, however, and Sam was absolutely not on it.

Until the bedroom door opened and she came out, that was. He glanced over, saw her, and bristled. She was dressed as she had been the night before in a long T-shirt that hung slack against her thighs and bared her smooth, perfectly crafted legs. The material rustled and rippled as she walked and pulled tight across her breasts when she stretched. The hem lifted, exposing more of her thighs, and Lincoln's eyes went to them. Just a scant few more inches and the juncture of her sex would revealed. He doubted she was wearing panties.

"Hey, Linc,' she chirped.

Lincoln's face flushed with shame and he darted his eyes to his feet. If Sam was single, it'd be different, but she wasn't, she was with someone..._his sister_. Checking her out was, like, a betrayal of Luna's trust, just as bad as actually doing something. Imagine finding out your girlfriend cheated on you...with your brother. That'd make for a lifetime full of awkward Thanksgivings and tense family reunions. Lincoln wasn't perfect, but the thought of stabbing Luna in the back like that turned his stomach.

"H-Hey," he stuttered.

She padded into the kitchen on bare feet, and Lincoln busied himself with his cellphone so he wouldn't look look up and study the contours of her body with his eyes. "How'd you sleep?" Sam asked.

Ugh, leave me alone.

"Fine," he said and logged onto Facebook. He rarely checked there but he needed a reason to keep his eyes on the screen and off of his sister's girlfriend. "You?"

"Pretty good," Sam said. "But I have the perfect snuggle buddy, so I _always _sleep good."

Lincoln chuckled politely. Snuggling sounded nice, but he didn't think he'd be able to sleep while doing it. He tossed and turned too much. An image danced mockingly across his mind: Him snuggling Sam from behind. She was in nothing but the T-shirt she had on now and Lincoln's fingers grazed languidly up her outer thigh and his nose nuzzled the slope of her neck. Her butt molded to his crotch and the clean scent of her hair steeped his brain. He reached the hem of her shirt and she dutifully parted her legs.

A shiver streaked down his spine and he shook his head like a man coming awake from a fever dream. Sam scooped coffee powder into the coffee pot, inserted the basket into its slot, and turned it on, its gutteal rattle filling the kitchen.

Alright, Linc, daydreaming about your sister's girlfriend is beyond messed up. You might as well just march up to Luna and spit in her face. _Hey, sis, I know you've always been good to me, looked out for me, and gave me advice, but I'm throwing all that away so I can do your girl. Get rekt. _

Just don't look.

Right.

His eyes drifted in Sam's direction anyway. She leaned against the counter with her arms crossed over her chest and her head thrown back. The shirt rested against in the V of her crotch, highlighting it just as surely as a flashing neon sign, and was it his imagination, or could he just make out the cleft of her femininity?

I said don't look!

But it was so hard not to. All he'd have to do is hike her shirt up over her hips and her gooey pink center would be right there. If she perched on the edge of the counter and laid her silky legs on his shoulders -

Was she a virgin? Like...for straight stuff? He didn't know, but she'd been with Luna forever, so if she wasn't, she was close. Virgins are tight. Or so they say. One thrust...maybe two...that's all it would take…

Scowling at his feet, and took a deep, regulated breath and let it out through his nose. Alright, Linc-O, stop perving on your sister's woman. You're a dork, a virgin, a lame-o, a dweeb, and a lot of other bad things, but you're not a dirtbag. Stop acting like one.

Okay.

Back to Facebook.

In the kitchen, Sam opened an overhead cabinet and pushed up on her tippy toes, arm reaching out. The shirt started to pull up, and Lincoln's heart clapped like thunderhead. He couldn't look away, couldn't stop himself from devouring her with his eyes; the shirt drew up, up, exposing more flawless skin. Squinting one eye and plastering the tip of her tongue to her upper lip in determination, she strained to get just a little higher, and for one glorious moment, the shirt jerked up and over the bottom of her firm little butt cheeks, then she rocked back on her heels with a sigh.

Lincoln realized he was panting like a dog in heat (do boy dogs get heat?) and swallowed around a lump in his throat.

"Can you help me get the frying pan down, please?" she asked.

Frying pan? What's a frying pan?

Muttering something that didn't make sense even to him, he got to his feet and nearly collapsed on watery knees. An evil smirk touched Sam's lips, and Lincoln walked as normally as he could, like a drunk dazedly plotting each and every step so no one knew he was drunk.

And failing miserably.

Instead of moving, she blocked his way and he had no choice but to look at her. "You're filling out," she said with an appreciative nod, "you been lifting weights?"

It was only then that Lincoln remembered he wasn't wearing a shirt. His chest, scrawny and pasty, was bared for all the world to see.

And right now, Sam _was _the world.

"Uh..no, I haven't," he said, surprised by the evenness of his own voice.

Sam scrunched her lips to the side and shifted her weight. She was a good six inches shorter than him, her eyes level with his breast. She leaned in to see better, and appraised him like an art snob examining a canvas in a gallery. "I dunno, you're looking more buff than normal."

She had seen him without his shirt tons of times (once or twice when she came over to the house while dating Luna, she even caught him in his underwear). He was normally as comfortable stripped to the waist around her as he was with his own sisters. Now, however, the back of his neck burned hotly and he resisted the urge to cover himself.

Drawing away, Sam looked up at him. "Flex."

Lincolnn missed a beat. "Flex?" he asked.

"Flex," she confirmed.

Her blue eyes glinted with girlish delight, and Lincoln's mind blanked. What could he do but what she asked of him? He balled his fists, bent his elbows, and held his arms up like a prize fighter establishing dominance over a fallen opponent. Sam hummed thoughtfully...then, to Lincoln's shock, she laid her hands on his muscles and squeezed. Her hands were soft and small, and the scrape of her flesh against his kicked his heart like a steel toed jackboot. She hummed again, then slowly ran her hands down his chest, her fingertips curling slightly and her nails grazing his skin like a cat testing the meddle of its prey. Lincoln's flesh tightened, his spine tingled, and blood crashed against his temples like a violent storm surge. The corner of Sam's mouth turned up in a knowing simper and her nostrils flared with the cadence of her ragged breathing. Lincoln's penis twitched, and horror gripped him.

Before he could get hard, Sam let her hands drop and nodded. "Yeah, you're getting more toned. Whatever you're doing, keep it up. Girls like a Musclebob Buffpants." She made a gun with her thumb and forefinger and gave him a wink.

Lincoln offered a nervous smile, then turned quickly away and retrieved the frying pan lest she try something else. Maybe it was paranoia - or wishful thinking - but he imagined he could feel her eyes on his butt the whole time.

"Thank you," she said when he handed it to her.

"You're welcome," he said.

While she started breakfast, he retreated. To get to the apartment's sole bathroom, he had to go through Sam and Luna's room. Being quiet so he didn't wake Luna, he slunk in, shut the door behind him, and locked it. Alone, he peed, then sat on the closed toilet lid and buried his face in his hands. He didn't know much about girls...or flirting...or anything like that, but Sam was coming onto him.

Wasn't she?

A pang of dread tore through his stomach. He remembered the naughty twinkle in her eye and the way she skimmed her palms over his chest, his breathing quickening. You don't have to be a rocket scientist to know a rocket's, well, a rocket, and you don't have to be a ladies man to know when a girl likes you.

But maybe he had it wrong. Maybe she was just messing with him. Really, all she did was tell him he looked muscular, and then touch his chest. That's not a big deal. It's not like she grabbed his crotch and told him to flex _that_. She was being sarcastic when she called him buff, ribbing him in a friendly and totally non sexual way. _Gee, Linc, you're looking jacked today, where do you work out, Auschwitz? _He just took it the wrong way.

Now he felt guilty. Sam was Luna's girlfriend and practically drooling over her is a pretty shitty thing to do.

This was his fault.

Bad Linc, out of the pool.

He cracked a sardonic and decidedly humorless smile, and his stomach gurgled. What do you call those people who always take the blame for everything? Someone could walk up to them, slap them in the face, and they'll apologize because _excuse me for existing and inconveniencing you. _You know the type: They go through life hating themselves and literally believing that they are the root cause of everyone's problems. They perceive themselves as weak, ineffectual, and think that the world would be better off without them.

There was a name for them but he couldn't remember it.

Whatever it was...he wasn't one of them, but he'd rather think he was at fault here because the alternative was much, much worse.

The alternative was that Luna's girlfriend really _was _into him.

For some reason, that idea disturbed him greatly. Sam and Luna had been together for going on seven years and Luna was genuinely, totally happy. The prospect that maybe Sam wasn't exactly loyal or committed cut him just as deeply as infidelity from his own girlfriend would. If the problem was him, well...he wasn't going to do anything about it. At worst, he'd check her out, think about her, and maybe (unless it made him feel too dirty) picture her while he...you know..._took care of himself_. If it was Sam, well, he couldn't control her actions. She may try something…

...and if she did, he couldn't promise he wouldn't let it happen.

And _that _made him feel like crap. Complete and utter crap.

He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. If he stayed right here, locked in the bathroom, for the rest of his visit like a wild animal in a cage, he couldn't do anything, he couldn't hurt Luna, he couldn't -

Someone knocked on the door.

"I gotta goooo," Luna moaned.

Sigh.

There goes _that_.

Dragging himself to his feet, Lincoln unlocked the handle and opened the door. Luna stood before him in a tank top and shorts, her eyes bleary and her brown hair stuck out at funny angles. Lincoln's heart leapt into his throat, as though she had caught him doing something wrong.

Luna blinked when she registered him, and the mist drained from her eyes. A look of shock, as though he were the last person she expected to see, flickered across her face, and Lincoln's stomach dropped.

She knew. Some way, somehow, she knew about what happened in the kitchen between him and Sam. She knew...and she was hurt.

No, she couldn't know.

Could she?

Luna's eyes darted back and forth between his face and his chest, and unless he was mistaken, her pupils seemed to dilate - with the revelation that Sam had just been touching him, maybe. A light blush crept over her cheeks, and looking away, she scratched the side of her head. "Uh...morning," she said awkwardly.

"Morning," Lincoln said.

She didn't know anything, couldn't know anything. He was paranoid, guilty, and ashamed, so he was reading things in Luna's face that weren't there: Apprehension, nervousness, discomfort.

For a moment, they faced each other, neither speaking, then Lincoln put his head down and slunk past. Luna went into the bathroom and shut the door behind her, and for some inexplicable reason, it felt like she was fleeing.

In the kitchen, Sam bustled back and forth between the stove and the sink. The sizzle and scent of frying bacon seasoned the air, and despite his internal back-and-forth, Lincoln's stomach rumbled.

"Can you get the coffee, Linc?" Sam asked over her shoulder.

Without replying, he went to the coffee maker and switched it off. He took three mugs from the cabinet and filled each one while Sam laid several strips of bacon on a plate, then set it aside. The grease popped and hissed. He was achingly conscious of his naked chest and wished he slept with his shirt on. "You want one egg or two?" Sam asked.

"Just one," Lincoln said.

She looked pointedly at his chest and raised her brow. Lincoln ignored her and added sugar to each one of the mugs. "You sure, Linc?" she asked. "Getting all built like that, you need to gain a little weight."

He chuckled uncomfortably. "I'm-I'm sure. I have a small stomach."

Sam opened her mouth, then turned away with a smirk. "Nevermind."

Huh? Nevermind what?

He almost asked her, but Luna came in from the bedroom and his vocal cords locked. Sam glanced over her shoulder, saw her, and smiled. From its earnest happiness, you would never know that she had just been hitting on Lincoln all morning.

_Because she hasn't been, _Lincoln told himself, _you're imagining things. _

Maybe.

And maybe he wasn't.

If it was just the whole "Wow, Linc, you look so buff and strong" thing, he could pass it off, but that stuff with the fork last night. Okay, there's messing around and then there's...that. That was beyond the pale.

But did it mean Sam was hitting on him?

Not necessarily. She could just be messing with him, but if so, that's something you really don't play about. Not with your girlfriend's brother.

Or anyone who isn't your girlfriend.

Luna slipped her arms around Sam from behind and kissed the side of her neck. Sam let out a firm giggle and turned to claim Luna's lips with her own. Lincoln looked away, his sense of dirtiness increasing. "Good morning," Sam said.

"Morning," Luna replied. "Since when do you make breakfast?"

Sam shrugged. "I cook when I'm hungry."

"Really?" Luna asked with a hint of incredulity. "You usually whine until I do it."

"I'm hungry," Sam protested, then stole a furtive glance at Lincoln. "And your brother needs to bulk up a little. He's been working out and you can't build muscle mass out of nothing."

Lincoln's face flushed. Luna looked at his chest, then wrenched her eyes away like a woman touching something hot. "You got a ways to go there, bro," she said. Her tone was wooden, stilted, lacking the warmth and ease that had come to characterize their interactions.

Sam fried three eggs while Lincoln made toast. Luna sat on the couch and sipped coffee in front of _Good Morning America, _where a bestselling author ranted about people not liking someone named Glyle. Lincoln watched his sister-in-law from the corner of his eye in case she tried anything funny, but she made no sign that she was even knew he was there.

When the food was done, he helped Sam bring it into the living room and handed Luna her plate. He sat on her right and Sam on her left. Lincoln's stomach roiled with nerves, but he forced himself to eat anyway. Next to him, Luna pushed her food across her plate, a distant expression on her face. Lincoln suddenly wished she'd nudge him in the ribs, ask him how he slept, talk his ear off about her job, anything to break the tense silence between them. "You guys wanna do something today?" Sam asked and forked a piece of egg into her mouth.

"I dunno," Luna said after a brief hesitation. "Like...what?"

Sam shrugged. "Something. Lincoln's here and it's a special occasion, so we shouldn't just waste it sitting around watching TV."

Going somewhere was the last thing Lincoln felt like doing at 8'o'clock in the morning...second only to staying cooped up inside with Sam and Luna, the girl who kept maybe-coming onto him and the girl who might-possibly-know he was thinking dirty things about her girlfriend. The air crackled with strange and not wholly pleasant vibes, and the walls were suddenly too close, the oxygen hot and thin.

Luna opened her mouth, perhaps to protest, but seemed to change her mind. "Yeah, I guess. We don't really have the money for anything. We can hit up a museum or something."

A grin touched Sam's lips and her eyebrows waggled suggestively.

At least to Lincoln it looked suggestive.

"I have a better idea," she said.


	6. Horseplay

The overfull beach bag started to slip down Luna's arm, and she pulled it back over her shoulder with an exasperated sigh. Sam stood ahead of her, dressed in sandals and a flowing white tank top that covered her pink bikini, and Lincoln brought up the rear. Luna could not see him, but she could feel his presence, warm, close, and comforting, and her stomach pitched like the deck of a ship on stormy seas. They had been waiting in line outside the concrete outbuilding separating the parking lot from Coates Memorial Pool for nearly ten minutes, and every time she heard the rustle of Lincoln shifting his weight from one foot to the other, her heart jumped into her throat and her midsection tingled like a glass of the Alka Seltzer Pop-Pop used to drink. _Plop-plop, fizz-fizz._

Her lame attempt at humor did little to distract her from the thoughts that had been plaguing her since the night before, and the sensation of Lincoln's eyes on her back - whether real or imagined - niggled her like the insistant prod of a tiny pebble in a shoe. The afternoon was barely seventy-eight degrees, but her face glowed bright red and sweat dampened her shaggy brown hair. Lincoln moved again, and she tensed; for a second, she was so sure he would cup her hips in his hands that when he didn't, she blinked in confusion.

At the head of the line, a woman with leathery skin, eyes hidden behind bug eye sunglasses, tore tokens from a sheet, handed one to each guest, and waved them through the gate. Beyond, kids and teeangers splashed and frollicked in the pool while their mothers sunbathed nearby.

The bag started to slip again, and Luna hefted it up.

When Sam suggested they go somewhere, Luna expected the park, or the bowling alley, or even the movies. Don't get her wrong, swimming was great, but watching her shirtless brother, pecs glistening with water, was _not _a good idea. Not now.

Last night, she told Sam that she didn't have feelings for Lincoln, and she meant it, but lying in the darkness and fighting to sleep, thoughts of him played through her head on an endless loop and the flutter of a million butterfly wings kissed the lining of her stomach. Every memory she had made with him bubbled unbidden to the surface of her mind, every laugh, every hug, every time she looked into his eyes and wanted to kiss him so badly she shook. She begged God and herself to stop, but the visions kept coming, and she knotted more and more until she could barely breathe. She pictured herself running her fingers through his hair and hesitantly forming her lips to his, and it was so beautiful...so natural...that she ached for it to be real.

Revulsion filled her and she rolled restively onto her side, one arm jutting over the edge of the mattress and the other wedged between her cheek and the pillow. The illuminated numerals on the bedside clock cycled through minutes, then hours, time speeding up toward dawn until the night streaked headlong to sunrise like a shooting star. She closed out the images of Lincoln again and again, but they always wormed their way back in, and with them an odd and worrisome mixture of shame and excitement.

She stretched out on her back, laced her hands over her chest, and gazed up at the ceiling, mind full, heart heavy. Why did she feel this way?

Sam, she decided, it was Sam.

She had been telling herself that all night, but deep in her heart, she knew it wasn't true. Sam may have pointed out the way she acted with Lincoln and brought it to the forefront of her mind, but she didn't put those feelings there; they had been locked in her breast since she was fifteen years old. There were nights where she lay awake much like she did now, listening to the gentle sound of Luan's breathing and hugging a pillow to her chest because she was alone, a girl on the cusp of womanhood and tormented by emotions both new and old. Her body was changing, her brain was shifting and reshaping, and sometimes, she just wanted someone to talk to, sit near, someone to listen to her or just _be _with her.

This desire...this _need_...blossomed at the same time as her awakening sexuality, so it made sense that the two could become almost inextricably entwined like two saplings growing side by side. She didn't want someone to simply be there, she wanted them to hold her in their arms, their tacky flesh stuck inseparably to hers; she didn't want to just touch them, she wanted to hold their face in her hands and stare up into their eyes as they made love to her, their hearts, sighes, and bodies one, indivisible.

How many times did she realize the face in her fantasies was her brother's? How many long, moonlit nights did she consider stealing into his room and getting under the covers with him?

More than she cared to admit, even to herself.

She never allowed those thoughts to go any farther; they began with her slipping out of her bed and ended with her snuggling Lincoln like a teddy bear. She knew, on some subconscious level, that letting them progress would lead her somewhere she ought not go, a way fraught with danger. She wanted to relish every detail and let it take her where it would, but she was never quite brave enough.

Then she met Sam.

She threw herself into the blonde like a woman desperately clutching a life ring. Even now, she loved Sam and didn't regret it one little bit, but something was bugging her, a small but needling what-if that grew and gathered strength, turning from an inaudible whisper in the back of her head to a crisp, clear question:

What if she never met Sam?

Would she have uncovered the courage (or the weakness) to leave her bed in the dead of night and climb into her brother's?

She never found out, and for the past seven years, she assumed that she never would. It was over, she had moved on, she was with Sam and Lincoln was only her brother. She and Sam eventually moved away from Royal Woods and settled into their own life. Her adolescent attraction to Lincoln faded. She seldomly saw him, but when she did, her heart always swelled with sisterly love. As a kid, she was mixed up and felt something for him that she shouldn't have, but she didn't, she reasoned, feel it for no reason. He was a great guy and she loved and appreciated him. End of story.

But was it just that? Was it really? Every time he was around, she felt good, far better than she had any right to feel. In the days leading up to his visits, she walked around on a cloud of anticipation, and on the appointed day, her heart palpitated with the giddiness of a small girl. She told herself she was just happy to see her brother, but somewhere in the folds of her soul, she knew it wasn't that, not really. She loved Luan and Lola and Lily and Mom and Dad just as much, but the promise of seeing them didn't make her stomach quiver, it didn't preoccupy her mind for a week or two in advance, she never looked at the clock and willed time to speed up so she could have them already.

Jesus...Sam was right.

Completely right.

She _was _into Lincoln.

But was she really? None of these thoughts or emotions had crystallized until yesterday, when Sam started acting funny at the restaurant. Before then, she was a normal girl glad to see her brother after a long time.

The line moved several paces forward, and Luna gripped the strap so hard her knuckles turned white. She didn't want to think about this anymore, she just wanted things to go back to normal. The slow, painful throb of her heart and the hollow gnashing in the pit of her stomach, however, told her that they wouldn't. Like a biblical prophet, she had been shown a life-changing revelation and there was no going back. She could flee like Jonah from Nineveh, but she would have to face the Lord eventually.

In this case, Lord being her unsisterly love for Lincoln.

Her guts twisted and hot bile rose in the back of her throat. Feeling this way wasn't normal...or good...or healthy, but could she really deny what was in her heart? Could she keep telling herself it wasn't there even though it was, and in spades?

Yes...she could. She could keep on lying, blaming Sam, and inventing elaborate justifications, but the fact of the matter was, she was…

Shame and fear swept through her like a brushfire and she quashed that thought before it could form.

She didn't want to go there. If she did, her life really would change. She didn't know how exactly, but it would...and probably for the worst.

Presently, Sam reached the head of the line. "Three, please," she said.

The woman ripped three tickets from her sheet, one-by-one, then handed them over. Sam turned and gave two to Luna. Luna gave one to Lincoln without meeting his eyes. He took it and they went in.

A number of plastic patio tables cast in the shade of big, spreading umbrellas crowded a wide space to one side of the pool. Many of them were occupied, but a few standing against the chain-link fence were free. Sam went to one and Luna followed, halting when a little girl in a one piece bathing suit darted across her path. Sam picked a table nestled in the corner where two lengths of fence met and dropped into a chair with a weary sigh. Luna dropped her bag onto the table and sank into a chair to Sam's right, while Lincoln sat directly across from them. "That line was crap," Sam said and flopped her head back.

"That's some crap too," Lincoln said and jutted his chin toward the pool. It was packed so tight that the people inside could barely move.

"Yeah, it is," Sam said, "but I'm still going in." She sat forward and slipped her tank top over her head in a spill of blonde hair. Luna's eyes were inexorably drawn to her small breasts and taut stomach, her silvery belly-button ring glinting like a lascivious wink. She rarely put it in because it irritated her skin. Why was she wearing it now?

Luna turned away just in time to catch Lincoln staring; their eyes briefly met, and Luna's heart squeezed. She darted her gaze to her lap and steeled herself against the tingle in her midsection.

So..this was it, huh? She really did carry a flame for Lincoln.

A humorless laugh lodged in her throat and turned into a miserable moan, but before she could give it voice, she swallowed it down like a jagged little pill. This was wrong...sick...and Lincoln could never find out. God, what would he think? What would he do?

He was too nice, too beautiful, to ever turn his back on her, but the terrible knowledge that his own sister was in love with him, like a crazed pervert, would always come between them, a wall topped with razor wire where they had once been only a placid meadow.

She couldn't do that. Her relationship with Lincoln was one of the best things in her life and she couldn't bear the thought of losing it. She'd rather deal with this...whatever you want to call it -

_Love_

\- than risk destroying something so precious.

How could she go on like normal when things were so different now? How could she hug her brother, speak to him, even _look _at him with this burden on her chest? How could she pretend that the feelings she had didn't exist, and that her emotions were pure when they weren't?

"You going in with me, Linc?" Sam asked and glanced at Lincoln.

A flicker of trepidation flashed across his face. "Uh...I dunno, it's really packed."

"So?" she asked. "Someone gets in your way, just elbow them in the ribs. Works every time." She turned to Luna. "What about you?"

Luna scratched the back of her gritty neck. "I guess," she said. Might as well. What else was she going to do, sit here and keep thinking about not thinking about Lincoln? Yeah, no.

"Well," Sam said and got to her feet, "let's go."

Without waiting for them, she brushed past, fingertips trailing teasingly through Luna's hair, and started for the pool. Her bottoms stretched tight over her pert, heart-shaped ass. Luna's eyes went from the gente ridges of her shoulder blades to the dimples at the base of her spine. A picture of Lincoln's bare chest began to form in her mind, and she shook her head to dispel it. She became aware of him across the table, and jumped to her feet so suddenly she nearly fell over.

Nope, sorry, I might do something we'll both regret later on.

Keeping her head down, Luna scurried after Sam, and Lincoln followed at a distance, his eyes glued to his feet like a chastised boy cowering against his mother's reproach. Luna glanced back at him. Was it just her, or had he been acting weird today?

A terrible thought came to her.

Did Sam say something?

Her blood turned to ice water and her step faltered. Sam wouldn't have done that, not after their talk last night.

Would she?

At the stairs leading into the pool, Sam dipped her toes into the water to test the temperature, then stepped tentatively in. "How is it?" Lincoln asked.

Sam held her thumb up. "Geat."

Supporting herself on the railing, Luna stepped in and winced. "It's cold," she said.

"You'll get used to it."

Lincoln was next. He made no sound as he waded in but the cute way his face contorted told Luna everything she needed to know.

Then the water reached his crotch and he sucked a sharp gasp through his teeth. Luna didn't have a...you know...but it looked so painful that she winced in sympathy. "You alright, Linc?" she asked.

He crossed his arms over his chest as if to absorb and transfer as much warmth to his shivery bits as possible, and Luna noticed for the first time that he was bare chested again. Her heart skipped a scandalized beat, but when she ordered her head to turn away, her brain went rouge and refused to deliver the order to her neck muscles. "Yeah," he chattered, "it's just really cold."

"Oh, don't be a baby," Sam said. Without warning, a wave of cold water broke over Luna's shoulder and splashed Lincoln's chest. He let out a cry and stumbled back against the concrete lip. Luna heart rocketed into her throat and goosebumps raced up and down her arms.

"Bitch,' she blurted. She wheeled around, and Sam favored her with a bratty smirk. Her brows arched challengingly. Luna pursed her lips, cupped her hand, and stuck it in the water.

The defiant look on Sam's face drained away and she fell back a step. "Wait, no…"

Ignoring her, Luna twisted around, then let fly. Sam threw her arms up to protect her face and squealed when the water hit her. "It's cold!"

"I know," Luna said.

"You're a dick."

"You were a dick first."

Sam splashed back, this time with both hands, and Luna whipped her head to the side, taking the brunt of the attack right to her ear. She started to splash back, but Sam held up her hands. "Wait, truce!"

Someone bumped into Luna from behind with a curt, "'Scuse me," and a little boy trudged between her and Sam on his way to the deep end. If she let loose on Sam, she'd wind up taking out a bunch of innocent bystanders too.

"Fine," she said, then jabbed a finger at Sam, "you're lucky."

Sam blew a kiss and Luna swatted it playfully away.

Remembering Lincoln, Luna looked around and spotted him by the buoys separating the shallow end from the deep, only his head and shoulders visible above the surface. He propelled himself off the side with his feet and glided to the other side like a fish. There, he stood up, and this chest and stomach glistened just as it had in her fantasy. The world gradually shrank away until she was blind and deaf to the din of splashing and laughter around her. Her eyes went instantly to the chiseled V pointing to the waistband of his shorts and to apex of his masculinity beyond, and suddenly she was hot all over. Her throat closed to a tiny pinprick and that same old flutter from before stirred in her stomach like a memory both pleasant and perverse. Lincoln tilted his head back, brushed his sodden white hair out of his face, and basked in the warming rays of the sun.

She traced the outline of his muscles with her eyes, her teeth unconsciously nibbling her lower lip. Her center clenched and unclenched in a slow, steady rhythm that sent pulsing rings of sensation into her chest.

A pair of arms closed around her from behind and she tensed. "What'cha lookin' at?" Sam asked and planted her chin on Luna's shoulder.

"Nothing," Luna said quickly.

Sam's fingers laced over Luna's stomach and her breasts flattened against her back. Her breath tickled the side of Luna's neck and made her shiver. "Oh, you're looking at something, alright." She followed Luna's gaze, and Luna could _feel _the smile spreading across her girlfriend's lips.

"Ahhh...I totally understand now."

Luna breathed a long suffering sigh. "Sam, I told you -"

"I don't mind if you look," Same said, "just as long as I can look too. He's really cute, isn't he?"

"No," Luna said. She meant it as a resounding pronouncement, but it came out as a plea. No, he's not cute, please leave me alone and stop talking about this. I'm begging you.

Did Sam do that?

Of course she didn't.

Her lips and nose smooshed against the side of Luna's neck, and Luna shuddered. "Yes he is," Sam said. Her hands crept down Luna's stomach, one finger tracing the line running between her naval and the top of her bikini bottoms. Luna jumped, and Sam uttered an evil little giggle. "I don't know why you're fighting this so hard, Luna," she said. One hand drifted up, fingertips kissing Luna's ribs, and the other down, tendrils of paralyzing sensation plunging into Luna's core. Her breathing quickened and her heart slammed so hard she could barely hear the sound of Sam's ragged panting. Luna swallowed and tried to speak, to tell Sam to knock it off, but her voice broke. Across the pool, Lincoln leaned back against the edge, arms bent like wings on either side of him, and Luna's eyes fixed on his slick chest. Between his body and Sam's teasing touch, she was getting turned on, her sex welling with desire and her lips pinching the fabric of her bikini.

Sam's hand crept over her breast, her thumb finding her stiff nipple with expert precision. Her other hand slid over Luna's bikini bottom, her middle finger dipping between her folds and stroking her innermost being. Luna's heart pounded, her cheeks burned, and her hips moved dumbly forward, her body seeking release. "S-Sam," she stuttered, "stop."

There were people all around, but none of them were looking...yet.

Sam kissed Luna's neck. "Your heart's really racing," she said huskily. "And I bet you're really wet."

Her fingertips wiggled past Luna's waistband and knotted in Luna's pubic hair. Luna clamped her thighs closed, trapping Sam's hand, and Sam kneaded her nipple in return. Pangs of pleasure cut through Luna's center, and her eyelids fluttered. Part of her wanted Sam to stop, but another part wanted her to keep going, to pluck the nub of her arousal until she came undone in front of everyone.

"It's not all from me...is it?" Sam asked.

Fire raged in Luna's stomach and smoke filled her brain. What wasn't all from Sam?

Sam kissed her earlobe. "I'm not the only reason you're horny," she said "You're horny for Lincoln too."

Yes, Jesus yes, she was so fucking horny for him and had been since she was a little girl. She dreamed of fucking him so many times, touched herself to the image until she was hot and shaking. She longed so hard to cover his entire body in slow, sensual kisses, from the crown of his forehead to the tips of his toes, to take him into her mouth and make love to his dick with her tongue until he couldn't take anymore and filled her mouth. She wanted to touch it, kiss it lick it, to show him how much she loved him, how much he meant to her, how desperately she appreciated him being there for her.

Sam's finger skimmed her pulsing clit through the bikini, and a moan escaped Luna's lips. She started to give voice to her feelings, to confess to Sam, God, and herself that she lusted for her little brother (and didn't care who fucking knew it anymore), but a sharp whistle blow cut her off, and she and Sam both jolted.

A squat, severe faced woman in a white polo shirt and red shorts,her eyes hidden behind a pair of sunglasses, stood on the apron skirting the pool, her hands fisted to her hips and her lips pulled down in a sour frown. Luna's heart sank.

"Blondie, brunette, outta the pool," the woman said and hooked her thumb over her shoulder.

Lincoln glanced over and furrowed his brows in confusion. He obviously hadn't seen what Sam was doing to Luna. Luna opened her mouth to protest, but the woman's glare intensified, and Luna instinctively knew that if she fought, the lifeguard would come in and make her leave.

"Yes, ma'am," Sam and Luna said in unison. They lowered their heads like scolded children and slunk up the stairs with their tails between their legs. Lincoln hesitated a moment, then got out too.

"What were you guys doing?" he asked on the walk home, a note of bewilderment in his voice.

Luna stared down at her feet, conflicting thoughts and emotions raging through her. Back at the pool, all of her defenses crumbled in one earth-shattering moment, and the truths she had been hiding from herself...and all the memories she had tried to forget...came roaring out like a destructive tidal wave.

She meant everything she said...err...thought, though.

She _did _love Lincoln.

She _did _used to touch herself while thinking about him.

She _did _want him.

She could freely admit that to herself now...but not to him, and not to Sam.

"Horseplaying," she heard herself say, and Sam laughed.

"Horseplaying?" Lincoln asked incredulously.

Luna looked up at him. Back lit against the glare of the midday sun, his face was pinched in bafflement, and Luna beamed because he was beautiful.

No matter _what _expression he wore.

"Horseplay," she confirmed.


	7. Admission

**MindMedulla: Dude, thank you so much for the artwork, it's beautiful and really brings that scene to life.**

Just before 10pm, Lincoln jammed his time card into the wall-mounted clock between the bathrooms, punched out, and dropped it in on the front counter on his way out. Damal Watkins, his coworker, was mopping the dining room and the last customers of the night, a white man with giant arms and an ugly Asian woman, sat at a table in the corner where they had been parked for nearly two hours. Lincoln sidestepped a yellow WET FLOOR sign, bent to pick up a wadded-up napkin that he somehow missed when he swept, and pushed through the door.

The night was warm and still, and bugs danced around the overhead lights lining the promenade. All of the other stores in the shopping center were closed save for Meijer's, and aside from a few cars and a pick-up truck, the parking lot stood empty, the pavement lit at intervals by the frosty glow of tall lamps. Lincoln shoved his hands into his pockets and crossed the parking lot to the bus stop at the corner. A Hispanic woman with big hoop earrings and a T-shirt with FRESH emblazoned across the chest sat on the bench and a white guy in a vest stood next to a street sign and talked into a cell phone. Lincoln dropped onto the edge of the bench, clasped his hands between his knees, and drew a deep, weary breath.

While he waited, he thought of Sam. Earlier, he was convinced that she was coming onto him, but now, hours later and far away, he was beginning to seriously doubt himself. Again. She hadn't done anything particularly out of line. The ice cream thing...well, she _did _make crude jokes sometimes (once, when he was in a bad mood, she told him he either needed a tampon or some dick), and that 'wow, Linc, you look so buff' crap was her obviously teasing him for being scrawny.

When you run those things through a dirty mind, you're bound to come away with the wrong impression. Sam wasn't in the wrong here, _he _was. She kidded around with him, and BOOM, he's thinking about her eyes and laugh and cute little butt like a pervert.

His stomach rippled with self-loathing and he took a deep breath. Every wandering thought of Sam, every idle ideation, was a slap not only to her face but to Luna's as well, and the more he did it, the more disgusted with himself he became.

Maybe he should go back to his dorm. He could cook up some kind of excuse and leave tomorrow morning. Luna would probably be disappointed, but better that than having him perv her girlfriend for the next five days. He'd be out on summer vacation in a few weeks and before he left for Royal Woods, he could stop off and stay with them for a few days. By then, he should _hopefully _be over this and everything would be back to normal.

Next to him, the Hispanic woman's thumbs blazed across the screen, and she absent-mindedly muttered to herself about someone named Ernesto who, apparently, was a "maricon." That meant...Lincoln wasn't sure, but Ronnie Anne used to use it against him, Poppa Wheelie, Clyde, and Rusty, so he assumed it was the kind of insult over which a man would punch another man without hesitation.

Would running away really solve anything? Though he sometimes forgot this fact, he was a grown man now and a man is supposed to confront his issues, not flee from them like a little girl from a scary sound. Sam didn't mean anything by her teasing, he mistook it for something else. It really wasn't _that _big a deal. An adult would recognize where he erred, correct himself, and go on with his life. Only an immature little diaper baby would storm out.

He was making a far bigger issue out of this than it really was.

That didn't change how dirty he felt, or how much he dreaded being around his sister's girlfriend right now.

A few minutes later, the bus pulled to the curb in a pneumatic hiss of air brakes and the accordion doors folded open. Lincoln got to his feet and fell in behind the man and woman. He dug the fare out of his pocket, stuck it into the change box, and sat in the first open seat he came to. Tinny rap music filtered from an iPhone somewhere in the back, and across from him, a fat woman leaned against the handle of a metal grocery cart.

The ride to Luna's street took fifteen minutes, and in that time, the nugget of suspense in Lincoln's stomach grew until he was so nauseous he thought he would puke.

At his stop, he climbed off and walked two blocks southwest to Luna's building, staying in the shadows and avoiding the light cast by the streetlamps. He met people on the way but he ignored them and they ignored him; in Royal Woods, a polite nod between strangers was customary, but in the city, no one had the time or inclination, for in the city, each man is an island unto himself, more alone and isolated from his neighbors than their 'wilderness' dwelling counterparts. He reached Luna's building ten minutes after setting out. The glare of the lobby lights stung his eyes and the dirty floor tiles stuck to the bottoms of his shoes. The smell of a thousand different budget meals mingled in the hall and music rattled the walls. At Luna's door, he knocked and waited, heartbeat picking up. A moment later, Sam appeared and flashed a pretty smile that knocked his stomach into his throat.

"Hey, Linc," she said. She wore a blue and white striped T-shirt that formed tight to her breasts and bared her midriff - belly button ring winking suggestively - and a pair of hip hugger jeans a full size too small. If she turned, they would be molded to her butt like a second skin, and Lincoln would look, no matter _how _bad it made him feel afterward.

"Hey," he said.

She made no move to let him pass. "Can I come in?" he asked.

Sam bunched her lips to the side and made a show of considering his request. "Hmmm. I dunno. You ate my ice cream yesterday. That's some serious stuff, Linc. You never eat a girl's ice cream."

See? She just liked messing with him.

He opened his mouth to reply but she stopped him.

"You eat her…"

She left the thought unfinished, but her meaning was crystal clear, even to a noob like Lincoln, and a mortified blush burst across his cheeks. A salacious grin spread across Sam's lips and she waggled her brows. Maybe she wasn't coming onto him, maybe she really _was _just playing around. If so, Lincoln didn't like it. He didn't like it at all. It was kind of cruel, after all, like teasing a starving man with a sandwich, or a homeless guy with a fat wad of cash in your pocket. _Hey, I know you're a virgin, can barely talk to girls, and only 'gave up' on dating because no one wanted you, so let me flaunt my beautiful eyes, pink lips, and sleek body in front of you. You want this, don't you?_

Yes.

He did.

Very much.

Though he knew this...had known it since at least this morning...putting it in so many words knocked him off kilter and filled him with shame. This was his sister's girlfriend he was talking about here. If Sam were single, no problem, if she was with someone else...problem, but not the keeps-me-up-at-night kind. She wasn't single, however, and she wasn't with anyone else, she was with Luna. His sister. Even thinking about her was morally reprehensible.

Was Sam doing this on purpose? Was she intentionally teasing him?

He hoped not, because that might mean she liked him, and if she made a serious pass at him, he wouldn't be able to resist. But he also hoped she was...because despite what it would do to Luna if she found out and despite the guilt he would always carry with him, he'd take Sam willingly and with gusto.

Lincoln chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck. His mind raced in time with his heart and his head spun. He was confused, horny, and repulsed with his own selfishness. He was a man conflicted and suddenly, he was so dizzy that standing upright took all the strength he had.

"But yeah," Sam said and stepped aside, "I _guess _you can come in." She winked, and Lincoln smiled dumbly because he had no idea what else he _could _do.

Inside, Luna sat with her back against the arm of the couch and her knees drawn to her chest. Her long purple T-shirt covered her lap but left her legs bare. Like Sam's, they were long, smooth, and exquisite, and Lincoln ran his eyes over them with a shameless abandon that he knew even then would come back to haunt him as he tried to sleep later on. God, she was his sister!

In his current state, that didn't matter.

Her legs, on the other hand, and the sweet fruit nestled at their apex...

_Jesus Christ, Linc, listen to yourself! You're talking about your sister's vagina!_

That snapped him out of it. He was so turned on he was actually thinking about his own sister. The urge to puke gripped him and if he were alone, he would have dashed off to the bathroom, but Luna was looking and him now and Sam was lurking behind him like a slasher in a horror movie, so he swallowed and put on his most normal expression. _Nope, nothing to see here, ladies, just a guy coming home from work to spend time with his sister and her girlfriend. And not in a dirty way. Why would you even think that? I'm just a regular guy and not some kind of deranged, sister loving pervert. My sisters are all great people, but not so great I want to fu -_

"Hey, bro," Luna said. She held her phone up to her face and swiped her finger up the screen. Her features were strained, as though she were trying to hold in a fart...or a bitter rebuke. _You wanna fuck my girl, huh?_

_No, Jesus, I just…_

_Okay, well, yes, kind of, but no, not really, like...if you're offering then...no, actually, no, I'm not, okay?_

"Hey," he said. She moved her feet and he sat stiffly down.

Sam came over and dropped beside him, pulled her legs under her in a crossways V, and rested her head in her upturned palm. "How was your day, Linc?" she asked.

"Good," Lincoln said with a cumbersome nod. Why couldn't she leave him alone? Didn't she realize he was a horny-ass rabid dog who was so far gone he literally called his own sister's vag _sweet fruit? _If she was doing this on purpose, she'd done enough already; _stand down, girl, I'm on the ropes._

She threaded her fingers through her blonde hair and fixed him with those dazzling blue eyes. He was vaguely aware of Luna watching him over the top of her phone, but when he turned to her, she darted her eyes timidly back to the screen. Sam pressed closer, her knee prodding Lincoln's, and the air seemed to get hotter. He was boxed in, trapped between a rock and a hard place, and icy fingers of claustrophobia rankled the edges of his consciousness. He took a deep breath and let it out in a shaky rush that he hoped didn't look suspicious but feared did. "Anything interesting happen?" Sam asked.

"N-Not really," Lincoln said. "Not much does there."

"You never know. You might get robbed. And then you might fight back and get your picture in the paper." She tilted to see around him. "Wouldn't that be cool, Lune? Your big, strong, heroic brother in the news?"

"As long as it's not the obituaries, yeah," Luna agreed.

A morbid laugh was shocked from Lincoln's throat. If he fought back against a wouldbe armed robber, that's exactly where he would end up.

"Nah, not Linc," Sam scoffed, as though the notion of Lincoln doing anything but saving the day (and getting the girl?) was impossible. "He's brave, resourceful, quick on his feet, and really cute." She dug her fingers into his stomach and Lincoln shot to his feet like a black preacher at tent revival. Luna glared at Sam and Sam flickered her eyes to Lincoln's butt. _Get a load of this tight tukas._

Luna's jaw clenched and her eyes flashed like frosty moonbeams. She opened her mouth to snap, but stopped herself. After Lincoln left for work, they had had loud wall-shattering sex, Sam coaxing from her the orgasm she started but stopped at the pool. As they lay together afterward, naked, sweaty, and covered in each other's juices, she started in about Lincoln again. _I know you dig him, _she said, _just admit it._

She almost did admit it, but the words stuck like barbs in her throat. How could she confess to loving her brother the way she did? How could she lay bare her heart when the object of her affection was verboten? Did Sam really want this from her? How would she feel when Luna looked her in the eye and said _I love Lincoln? _Would it hurt her? Would it make her jealous? She claimed to be okay with it now, but it was only a nebulous concept and not immutable truth. Once Luna spoke those words, they would become real, and they could never, ever be taken back. Could Sam live with that? Luna loved her dearly, loved her as much as she did Lincoln, and the prospect of hurting her, maybe even driving her away, made her sick.

Once her declaration was out, everything would change. She didn't know how yet, but it would. If she kept her mouth closed and worked through her emotions, they would remain the same. She would not have Lincoln the way she wanted, but she would have him, and she would have Sam too.

It was better, easier, _safer, _to keep these longings stuffed in the darkest chambers of her heart. _I don't, _she sighed. She could see the incredulity in Sam's eyes, and added, _I did. A long time ago. I wanted him. Bad. But not anymore. _She was shocked at the ease with which the lie came, and in the semi-darkness, she studied Sam's face to see if she bought it or not. The blonde's gaze was frank, unwavering, and inscrutable.

_I don't, _Luna swore, defensive now. _Sam, I really don't, just please leave me alone about it._ She got up and got dressed, and the whole time, Sam watched her with a meditative expression. If you looked into her clear eyes, you could see the cogs and wheels turning in her head. She wasn't going to leave it alone, and right here was the proof. She was…

What _was _she doing? Trying to seduce Lincoln for her like a mama cat bringing its callow babe the food it couldn't hunt for itself?

Luna didn't know, but Sam needed to cut it out. This wasn't her business.

"I'm gonna take a shower," Lincoln tossed over his shoulder. He was already hurrying toward the bedroom like a man fleeing the clutches of some great beast, but too polite to break into an outright run.

When he was gone, Luna shot a dirty look at Sam. "I told you to stop," she said.

"Stop what?"

"You're messing with Lincoln."

Sam's brows furrowed in confusion. "I always mess with him."

"You know what I mean," Luna said tightly.

Sam started to argue, but realized it was futile. "I'm softening him up for you."

Softening him up? What the hell did _that _mean?

Sensing her bewilderment, Sam slid off the couch and slipped behind Luna. Kneeling, she propped her elbows on the couch's arm, laid her hands on Luna's shoulders, and began to work her tense muscles. Luna allowed it to happen, but didn't relax. "You can keep saying whatever you want, Luna, but I know you like Lincoln, and I know that one of your major hang-ups is that he might think you're gross and reject you."

Luna didn't reply.

That wasn't what she was really afraid of. She could handle rejection and heartache. She could _not _handle pushing her brother away by coming onto him. If she made a move, he might not simply tell her no, he might pull away from her entirely. And why wouldn't he? Isn't that what any normal person would do if their sibling professed unnatural and undying love to them?

"So," Sam said and ran her thumbs along either slope of Luna's neck, "I'm going to get him _so _bothered and hot that he'll jump your bones without a second thought."

Luna sighed. "I don't want that," she said honestly. _You might as well drug him, _she thought but didn't add.

Sam's moist lips touched the side of Luna's throat, and a shiver went down her spine. "Yes you do," she said.

A leaden balloon swelled in Luna's depths and her heart rate accelerated. How could Sam turn her on with so little effort? A stray touch, an errant kiss, sometimes a fleeting look, and Luna was reduced to putty in her girlfriend's expert hands.

Sam crept her fingers over Luna's shoulders and down the front of her tank top. Luna bit her lower lip, tilted her head back, and gratefully surrendered herself to Sam's ministrations. For as long as she was preoccupied with Sam, she wouldn't think of Lincoln, and she welcomed the respite from the tangled mass tying ever tighter within her. Sam found the aching nubs of her nipples and brushed her thumbs over them. Luna closed her eyes and shut out the world until the only thing that remained was the sensation of soft, sure touches. She slouched down like a melting snowwoman and stretched out on her back while Sam scuttled around the arm and knelt over her like a pervert faith healer. She pulled Luna's shirt over her breasts, leaned in, and flicked her nipple with the tip of her tongue, then molded her lips around it. Her left hand glided down Luna's quivering stomach and disappeared into her pale purple panties.

The heat of Sam's touch soaked into her fevered sex, and when Sam pried apart her lips and sank her fingers into her opening, Luna gasped. She threw one arm behind her, gripped the couch, and began to rock against her girlfriend's fingers. Sam alternated between slow and fast, stopping just long enough to pull her back from the edge of cumming then starting again. Her thumb grazed Luna's clit and she trailed wet kisses over her exposed stomach and breasts.

Luna sucked her bottom lip into her mouth to stifle her cries and thrusted faster, meeting each one of Sam's quick forward motions. Sam's face hovered inches above her own, eyes hazy, hair stuck out and lending her a crazed appearance. She kissed the corner of Luna's mouth, then her neck, then her ear. "You want him," The blonde breathed.

Pressure spread out from Luna's center and mounted in her stomach. The friction of Sam's fingers caressing her inner walls and skimming her clit was becoming too much. She dug her heels into the couch and arched her back up, down, up, down, humping her girlfriend's hand with needy abandon.

"You wanna fuck your little brother," Sam said. Her voice was shaky and thick with her own need. "You want him to fuck you so bad."

Luna's orgasm was fast approaching and she could do nothing to stop it.

"Tell me," Sam said and ghosted her lips over Luna's nipple. "Tell me how bad you want him to put it in you."

The last little bit of resolve in Luna's brain crumbled and she finally, at long last, gave voice to what was in her heart. "So bad," she whimpered.

"You want him to rail you."

Sam thrusted fast and hard, as if to punctuate her point, and Luna started to cum. "Yes," she trembled.

"You want him to cum in you."

Luna's climax exploded in her with the power of a burning sun, and she cried out, her body clamping down on Sam's fingers in a vain attempt to suck in every last drop of the sperm they would not produce. Luna held onto the cushions and undulated her hips, riding tide after tide of pulsating bliss.

When she came down, she swallowed thickly and looked up at Sam, who smiled down at her.

"Now," Sam panted, "We get to work."


	8. Breakfast with the Girls

Lincoln Loud had always been a restless sleeper. He tossed, turned, shifted, and changed positions more than a politician running for president, and only dropped off through some convoluted alignment of stars and planets that happened only in the deepest hours of night, sometimes at 1am, sometimes at 3. Little did he know that that night, it wouldn't happen until nearly 5.

He, Sam, and Luna went to bed around midnight. He remembered what had happened immediately before they'd all tucked in. They were sitting up in bed when he came out of the bathroom in a puff of steam. They both looked at him strangely, Sam with lidded eyes and Luna with something like fear, and he silently thanked God that he put his shirt on before coming out.

_Hey, Linc, _Sam purred. She wore a pale pink T-shirt that, even sitting down, looked three sizes too big, the fabric creased and bunched like excess skin, She planted one hand into the bed and leaned over, back arching, and it slipped down her shoulder to expose warm, creamy flesh a light, sun-kissed shade of tan. _Come here._

Lincoln's throat closed to a tiny pinprick and his mind screamed at him to run, but his feet carried him forward anyway. _Sit down, _she commanded, and he did, the mattress dipping beneath his weight. Sitting on her knees behind him, she tossed her hair out of her face and started to massage his shoulders, her fingertips pushing deep into his muscles and making him wince in discomfort. _You're really tense, dude, jeez._

_Work sucks, _he managed.

She laughed like that was the funniest thing she'd ever heard.

It didn't sound entirely genuine...but it didn't sound sarcastic either.

_Tell me about it, _she said. _I hate work. I don't mind sucking, though._

Lincoln blinked.

W-Was she being dirty or was he misinterpreting what she meant?

Sam's thumbs made firm circles and he winced again, all erotic suppositions scattering because wow, this kind of hurts. People do this for fun? _Can you ease up a little? _he asked.

_Sorry. _She pulled away, and a second later, her hands slipped underneath his shirt. Her nails lightly scraped his skin, and his heart leapt into his throat. She pressed her body to his and he could distinctly feel the gentle outline of her breasts. Her hot exhalations puffed against the side of his neck and her hair caressed his cheek like summer satin. Her fresh, flowery scent tantalized his senses and the feeling of her nails kissing his flesh made his back bow like a man in an electric chair. _Is that better? _she asked in a low pant.

Lincoln licked his lips. Despite relieving himself in the shower, he was starting to get hard again. He closed his eyes and willed his erection to go down; it did, but vowed to come rushing back at a moment's notice. _Y-Yeah, _he stammered, _that's...that's okay._

She raked her nails down his back and giggled sweetly at the way he jerked. His dick started to stir and if he didn't get out of there, he'd pop a rager for the record books.

The prospect of Sam and Luna seeing it drove him to his feet. _I-I'm kinda hungry, _he stuttered, _I need something to eat._

It was a lame excuse and he knew damn well it didn't fool them, but he didn't care. Head down, he rushed out, and as he went, he swore he caught a glimpse of mild amusement on Luna's face.

The encounter had been running through his head again and again, preventing him from ever really decompressing. Around 1, a shaft of moonlight fell through the window and lay across his chest in a dusty bar like a celestial search lamp, the only witness to his restive agony. Earlier that day, when he'd been waiting for the bus, he'd considered leaving. He came up with some contrived bullshit excuse about an adult not running from his problems, but that wasn't right; sometimes walking away is the best thing you can do. Tomorrow, then, he finally decided, and once he did relief washed over him. Tomorrow he'd tell Sam and Luna he had to leave.

All he needed to do now was think of a reason that didn't sound like complete bull.

Toward dawn, he finally fell into a thin and fitful slumber, and didn't wake again until Sam and Luna came out and started making noise in the kitchen. He kept his eyes closed and tried to play possum, but within minutes, he could sense one of them crossing the room to stand in front of the couch he was laying on. It was his sister, he subconsciously knew, who stood above him, bemused by his efforts to fake slumber. She crossed her arms and gave a wan smile; everyone that had grown up in the Loud House had acquired a pretty good grasp of each other's tricks, and Lincoln in particular could be a real handful when he wanted to be. The older girls had all practically compiled a profile on him back when his schemes were a little less sophisticated, thus he had no hope of fooling her with a ploy as half-assed as keeping his eyes shut and pretending to snore. "Rise and shine, little bro," The rocker chided gently, waving a bagel under his nose until the fragrance of toasted bread made his stomach grumble loudly in response. Lincoln instantly groaned as his eyes cracked open, Luna fighting not to chuckle. "I saved you the last bagel."

Sitting up and scratching the side of his head, he muttered his thanks and took the proffered piece of bread. Luna sat next to him on the couch, enjoying how warm the blanket beneath her still was from his bodyheat, drawing her legs up. She seemed to hesitate for just a moment before, to his surprise, suddenly snuggling up to him like an affectionate cat. Her cheek laid, warm, against his shoulder, and her hand splayed across his chest just above his pounding heart. Luna's displays of tenderness were nothing new, but in the state of sustained, frazzled bewilderment he'd endured over the last couple of days, something about it felt somehow _wrong. _Her hugs, cuddles, and cheek kisses had always been a little cloying, but they were innocent, a sister showing love for her brother. Right now, to him, it didn't feel that way at all, and it agitated the boy to the extreme.

He didn't want to pull away or tell her to stop, though; she wasn't actually doing anything wrong, the problem was all with him and his dirty-ass mind. He'd worked himself into such a deluded frenzy that now every little thing - a friendly smile, a chaste pat - seemed to carry a deeper (and more sexual) significance that the more reasonable part of him knew wasn't actually there. In her mind, she was just cuddling with her brother. But to him, she was...

What?

He went back to the night before. _Blah blah blah Luna's legs and the juicy fruit between them_. His heart clutched and the back of his neck grew hot and red. That was a one time thing, though. He was so hot that he wasn't thinking, so he made an awful off-hand mental remark before realizing _wait, that's your sister._

It didn't mean anything.

But tell that to the dirty pervert within.

"How'd you sleep?" she asked.

Over in the kitchen, Sam squirmed around like she was looking for something, then gave a soft 'a-ha!' upon presumably locating it; the girl stood on her tiptoes as she reached into the back of a cupboard to retrieve a mug. The hem of her shirt came almost to her knees and didn't leave much to see, but Lincoln couldn't help but look anyway. The fantasy sprang to his mind unbidden: cupping that long leg in his hands, stroking slowly down the calf all the way down to her petite foot. How smooth would it be? How soft?

"Okay, okay, I slept okay," Lincoln fumbled hurriedly, the guilt cutting into him like a buzzsaw pressed to his ribs. Luna's weight pinned his arm at his side, and after a moment, he slipped it out and draped it over the back of the couch. "Uh, you?"

She shrugged. "Eh. Just okay. There was a fly that kept landing on my face. See?" She sat up, turned her head, and presented the side of said face for inspection. A faint, pinkish mark in the rough shape of a hand met his eyes, and he laughed despite himself. "I slapped the shit out of myself trying to get it," Luna said with a sly little smile. "Twice."

"It was me," Sam called on her way to the bedroom, "Don't let her lie. She talked back and BOOM. Had to slap a ho."

Luna blew a raspberry. "Oh, please. If you did that, I'd kick your ass."

Without missing a beat, Sam changed course and started for Luna like a lioness stalking her prey across a dusty plain. Luna pushed away from Lincoln and sat up to meet the wordless challenge. Sam raised her hands threateningly, and in a flash, the two were grappling, Sam bent and Luna half-standing. Luna laughed and Sam grunted. "Go down, bitch," Sam huffed.

"No!"

Luna threw herself back against the couch, and Sam landed on top of her in a spill of limbs and hair. Lincoln ducked out of the way and got to his feet to avoid being accidentally kicked or hit. Sam dug her fingers into Luna's stomach, and Luna let out a shocked laugh that turned into a scream. "Don't you dare!"

They rolled into the spot Lincoln had so recently vacated, then slid onto the floor with a thump, Sam landing on top. She grabbed Luna's wrists and pinned them over her head in a V. The brunette thrashed and tried to escape, but Sam mounted her and caged her hips between her knees. "Get off," Luna cried.

"Nope," Sam said. A devious smile spread across her lips and she leaned over until her nose nearly touched Luna's. "You're my victim."

Before her girlfriend could reply, Sam claimed her lips, and not much time passed before Luna was kissing her back. Lincoln looked away awkwardly and rubbed the back of his neck, but his eyes were inexorably drawn back as though by some powerful magnetic force. Sam threaded her fingers through Luna's and squeezed, and she responded by arching her back up off the floor with a shy, pleased murmur.

Lincoln's throat went dry and he tried to gather up enough saliva to swallow. At last the blonde broke from her captive girlfriend's mouth and laid her hands on her shoulders, her grin sharp and bawdy, her eyes misted with lust. Blonde hair hung messily in her face, and Luna's small chest rose and fell with the hitch of her own excited breathing.

Despite his best efforts not to dwell too deeply on what he was seeing, the notion still occurred to him: is this what it looked like when they had sex?

That thought knocked the breath from Lincoln's lungs. An image of Sam and Luna, both nude and writhing together in furious tandem flashed across his mind: Sam's breasts jiggled with the force of her movements and Luna's heels dug into her butt, holding her close.

Lincoln felt himself beginning to stir, and forced his eyes away. Luna laughed, pushed Sam off, and sat up. "You're an asshole," she said.

"Gotta establish dominance," Sam said. She stopped at the bedroom door and looked back over her shoulder. "I'm getting in the shower. You guys can handle breakfast. Make it yummy." She winked, and Lincoln had the strangest feeling that she wasn't referring to food.

After she was gone, Luna staggered to her feet and brushed her fingers through her hair. "Alright, bro," she said, "looks like it's up to us."

Like Lincoln, Sam and Luna were young and made barely enough money to scrape by, so their fridge and pantry were both next to barren. He and Luna stood side-by-side before the latter, Lincoln with his arms crossed and Luna with her hands on her hips, and scanned the offerings within. A few cans, a couple jars, and several boxes. "We can do pancakes," Luna said.

"Works for me," Lincoln replied.

While Luna got a pan from the cabinet over the sink, Lincoln started whisking the flour, baking powder, and sugar together in a metal bowl. Luna sat the pan on the stove, opened the fridge, took out a gallon of milk, and bumped the door closed with her hip. She poured some of the milk into her coffee and took a sip. As for Lincoln, thoughts of Sam...and, to his intense self-disgust, Luna...intermittently intruded upon him, and every time they did he would start mixing with firm, displeased strokes, as though he could _whisk away _the vision of his sister and her girlfriend's frantic coupling if he only did it hard enough. His elbow hit something soft and yielding and Luna nudged his side. "Watch it, killer," she complained.

"S-Sorry," the boy apologized.

She put the milk away and stood beside him to inspect his work. "You gotta go faster than that, bro," she said.

Lincoln went faster.

"Nah, man, still too slow."

The corners of her mouth twitched into an elfin smile and a merry light twinkled in her eye. She was playing with him. Lincoln clenched the whisk hard before going faster still. "How's that?" he challenged. His arm was beginning to cramp and droplets of whiteish mix splattered his hand, the counter, and the front of Luna's shirt like -

Whisk it away. _Whisk it away._

"Alright!" Luna laughed and held up her hands to ward off the batter. "You win, you win!"

The sound of her laughter had never been more musical and Lincoln couldn't resist the fond smile that edged his lips. "You're catching it from all sides today, huh?" He asked playfully.

"Sam's right," she suddenly accused, "You must be working out."

He rolled his eyes. "You know I haven't. My arms are noodles."

"Oh, they're not that bad," The rocker dismissed. She picked the bowl up, looked inside, and nodded when she found the consistency was right. She took it over to the pan and poured it out. Lincoln grabbed a loaf of bread and busied himself making toast. He stole quick, hidden glances at his sister as he worked, and while once he might have focused on her soulful eyes or cute freckles, he now found different features were drawing his attention; her delicate chin, the graceful slope of her throat, the peek of her collarbone above her shirt…

He licked his lips and turned his attention back to the bread.

Luna was just putting the last pancake on a plate when Sam came in from the bedroom and slipped behind her. "That smells good," she said.

"You smell good," Luna quipped.

"Showers will do that," Sam said. Lincoln glanced at her…

...and his heart stopped.

She was wearing nothing but a towel that barely covered her. Her dry hair fell free over her naked shoulders and her bare, statuesque legs begged to be kissed and caressed. She tucked her hair behind her ear and reached into the fridge; the towel rode up a little, and if Lincoln leaned back just enough, he could probably see her butt...and the plump swell of her sex beneath.

A slice of toast popped out of the toaster with a metallic _chink_ and Lincoln jumped. He unthinkingly grabbed it, then ripped his hand back when it burned his fingers. Sam closed the fridge and passed between him and Luna. He tensed and held his breath, hoping she'd go away and -

_Wishing_

\- fearing she wouldn't.

She didn't. She fell in beside Lincoln and sat something on the counter.

A tub of butter.

"Can't have toast without butter," she pointed out.

Lincoln kept his gaze straight ahead. "Yeah, can't have it like..like that." He shot a questioning look at Luna for help, but she was digging through the fridge in search of syrup. Sam bumped her hip into his and he reflexively glanced at her. She sauntered up to him and held up a butter knife like a madwoman come to claim her love at last...whether he wanted her to or not.

Instead of jamming it between his ribs, she tapped it against his chest. "You wanna do it, or me?"

Lincoln blinked. Was that a come on? It sounded like a come on, his treacherous mind reinterpreting the words. _Do you want to do it...or do you want to do me?_

He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but whatever it was lodged in his throat like a wad of phlegm. "You," he blurted, and when he realized what he had said, his face turned a deep, fiery shade of red.

"Okay," Sam said easily. She turned, peeled the lid off the butter, and dipped the knife in.

Maybe it wasn't a come on, but could he be blamed for thinking it was? The ice cream thing the other day, the massage last night, parading around in nothing but a towel and looking so fucking sexy he could barely stand it - there was no way she wasn't intentionally teasing him. And Luna..she was acting like this was the most normal thing in the world. There was no tension in the air to suggest they were arguing, and last night, she let Sam touch him without so much as a cross look.

Because nothing was really happening, perhaps?

That gave him pause. When you got down to it, nothing _had _happened. Nothing concrete, anyway. Even if she _was _being dirty on purpose, so what? People make crude jokes and stuff all the time. His mind kept hitting the same wall.

The only thing Sam was doing wrong was assuming he was mature enough to handle that kind of kidding.

He was not.

Presently, she slathered butter onto a piece of toast and spread it around with a crisp scraping sound. She sat it down and did it again. When she was finished, she licked the butter from the blade, pink tongue swirling around it to capture every last drop. She caught him looking and held it out. "Want some, Linc?"

Lincoln shook his head. "No, thank you."

"You sure?" she asked.

No.

Yes.

Maybe.

"Uh...you licked it," he said, because what else could he say? "It has Sam germs on it now." He said, trying to rescue the situation with a lame joke.

Sam rolled her eyes. "Sam germs. Fine." She swiped her finger through the butter and held that out. "Here."

Lincoln flicked his eyes from it to her face. The wicked grin he'd noticed the day before was back, sharp at the corners. "No, thank you," he said.

"Come on," she said and wiggled her finger. "I promise, I don't have germs. Do I, Luna?"

Luna closed the fridge door. "Nah, bro, she's clean. I get her tested."

Was she seriously asking him to…?

Sam pouted cutely.

She was, wasn't she?

"Taste my butter!" The blonde suddenly commanded. She reached out, and before Lincoln could wrench his head away, she smeared it across his lips. He staggered backwards like he'd just had acid splashed on his face, bumping into Luna, but Sam simply laughed at his reaction. "Oh _come on_, Linc. It's just a little Land o' Lakes. Relax."

The young man was not at all far from freaking out. Relax? _Relax_? How could he relax when she was doing...this?

Taking a plate from Luna, Sam winked at him and went into the living room. Lincoln swiped the back of his hand across his mouth and turned to his sister. Should he say something? He opened his mouth, wavered, then closed it again. If he _was _mistaken, he'd be all but revealing that he was immature at best and perverted at worst. Better to just let it go. Later on, he'd tell them he was going back to campus because...reasons...and that would be that.

For now, he just needed to get through breakfast.

A pair of arms circled his waist from behind and his heart almost jumed out of his mouth. Luna pressed her cheek to his back and hugged him tightly. "You hungry, bro?"

"Yeah, really hungry," he lied. Luna hugged him all the time, but right now, he didn't want her body anywhere near his; he might do something stupid like allow his hand to wander. He shuddered, deep down to his bones, even simply imagining her reaction to that. She'd probably punch him and then never speak to him again.

"Me too," she said. She embraced him for a few seconds longer, then let go and grabbed two of the plates, "come on."

They sat on the couch, Lincoln in the middle and flanked on either side, and he had the queer sensation of being a prisoner two guards were deliberately boxing in. There wasn't much syrup by the time Sam and Luna were done with it so his pancakes were dry and stuck in his throat. Butter might have helped, he thought, as he smacked his still somewhat moist lips, but he was sure if he reached out for it his sister's girlfriend would never let him hear the end of it and he didn't feel mentally prepared to deal with any more of her teasing at the moment. Sam and Luna both pressed close, their legs flush against his. He felt nervous and unstable, like a vial of nitroglycerin the slightest movement could set off. He kept his eyes on his plate but they unfailingly drifted to Sam. Her bare knee was right there; all he had to do was lay his hand on it and -

Luna leaned heavily into him. "What do you wanna do today, bro?"

Lincoln's ever-suspicious mind couldn't help but spin up. Yesterday afternoon and into last night, Luna acted strange. Tense. On guard. To the point that Lincoln feared she knew he was having dirty thoughts about Sam and disapproved. Every time he was forced to speak to her, he expected her to snap at him, and standing beside her, he fancied he could feel dark waves emanating from her like the teeth-rattling hum of electricity from a power box. Today, however, the atmosphere around them was as light and easy as always.

Why the sudden change...?

He remembered Luna's question and shook his head head as if to stir an idea. He already knew what he wanted to do - leave - but he still didn't have an excuse. When he talked to Luna a few weeks ago, he specifically said he had nothing planned for the entire week except for work. If he recalled, he said _I'm one hundred percent free._

Talk about putting your foot in your mouth.

Luna and Sam were both looking at him and he hesitated. "I don't know," he said. "Um...whatever you want to do."

Was he crazy, or was the look Sam and Luna exchanged...predatory?

Crazy, he was definitely crazy.

Or hopeful.

"I have a few ideas," Sam said and forked a piece of pancake into her mouth.

"So do I," Luna added. Lincoln knew never it was possible for someone to sound like they were winking, but that's exactly what Luna's voice sounded like: A suggestive, beckoning wink.

"What ideas?" Lincoln asked, though he wasn't sure he actually wanted to know the answer.

"Well…" Luna said, "we can see the sights."

As she spoke, she casually splayed her hand on his leg. His heart jumped up and his entire body clenched, _hard._

"I was thinking we could stay in and play some games," Sam said. She followed Luna's example and laid her hand on his thigh, so close to his crotch that all she had to do to touch it was extend her pinky. Lincoln sucked in a sharp, stunned breath like a man dunked into cold water. She leered at him, all hunger and sharp teeth, and Luna pursed her lips to conceal her amused smile. "We have some in the closet." Sam gave his leg a gentle squeeze, and for one sickening moment, he thought he was going to spring an erection while his sister was touching him. "You like _Risk, _right?"

Lincoln's Adam's apple bobbed up and down. Risk? Huh? What was that? What was anything? Two girls are rubbing me inches from my dick and Jesus, don't get hard, don't get hard. Why were they doing this? It had to be on purpose. His own dirty mind? Yeah, right. Luna has always been affectionate but this was different. It _felt _different. Was it really her, or was it him? Jesus, he didn't know anymore; his brain ached and he was knotted more than a street vendor pretzel. A hard pretzel, to be precise.

What the heck were they talking about? They'd asked him some kind of question. He tried to focus on what they were saying instead of the way they were looking at him, concentrating as hard as he could. Oh, right, yeah, Risk! The board game. The playing mat was a map of the world subdivided into regions and the point was to go full Hitler and take as much of it over as you could. Lincoln did like that game. He used to have a copy and he'd haunt the house with it tucked under his arm looking for someone to play it with. Lynn was down sometimes, but if she started losing, she'd get mad, flip the board in a shower of plastic pieces, and rage quit like an asshole. Luna was the only one who'd play with him, but she only did so out of pity; the whole time, tears of boredom streamed down her cheeks and if you looked into her eyes, you'd be hard pressed to miss the longing for death therein. The familiar, innocent memory served to just barely cool him off and help him get his bearings again.

Sam and Luna were both looking at him with eager anticipation, and he realized he hadn't replied. "Uh..yeah," he agreed carefully, "I like _Risk._"

"We could play that," Sam offered. She squeezed his thigh again and Lincoln had to fight not to squirm like she'd just twisted open stitches. She flattened her chest against his side, her big blue eyes staring evilly up at him. "To make things interesting, we can turn it into _strip Risk._"

Lincoln's only response was a hard, disbelieving cough.

"It's simple. All you have to do is win one round and I'm completely _naked." _She said the last word with a sultry hilt that sent Lincoln haywire. His dick started to swell and he clamped his knees together. "Or," Sam said, lowering her voice, "we can team up and get Luna naked."

In the corner of Lincoln's eye, Luna blushed and demurely hung her head. "Maybe not...that," she said.

Sam tilted forward to see around Lincoln, her hand mercifully leaving his thigh. It was only now that he noticed how, light though her touch was, it had kept him pinned in place like a stake through his leg. "Why not?" she asked. "You have a hot body."

Lincoln almost turned his head to study Luna's body for himself in a subconscious, instinctive reaction.

"That might be a little much," Luna fumbled. "Just...too far."

Sam's brows shot up in the most genuine expression of incredulity Lincoln had ever seen. _Really? _that look said. _That's not what you've been telling _me. "Why?" Sam pressed. "We're all family, right? There's nothing wrong with seeing each other's bodies."

Lincoln plastered his hands to his lap and doubled slightly over to hide the bulge growing between his legs. Sam molded her hand to his knee, and his stomach dropped out like a spring loaded trap door. "Or touching each other's bodies."

Oh my God, is she really saying this?

"I mean, no one would get upset if I touched Lincoln's shoulder," she continued, "what's the difference in me grabbing his butt?"

A lot!

"You're nuts," Luna said stiffly, "anyway...you know...it's spring, it's a shame to, uh, shame to waste it inside."

Sam pursed her lips and shook her head disappointedly. "Fine. We'll go out." She got to her feet and held the towel to her chest. "I was planning to take things off, not put them on, but whatever." Lincoln didn't miss the icy edge in her voice. She sounded let down.

And when her words sank in, he had to admit it. Deep down...?

So was he.


	9. Two Steps Back

**Sorry for the long delay. I hope to have the rest out in fairly short order.**

* * *

Sam Sharp crossed her arms over her small breasts and drew a deep, impatient breath through her nose. She was wearing jeans and a white T-shirt with KROKUS across the front when she wanted to be wearing nothing at all. Here's something you might not realize: Teasing is just as hot as _being _teased. Flirting with Lincoln, touching his leg, pressing her aching breasts against his warm skin, being _this _close to naked before his hungry eyes, left her so hot she could barely think. She was like a junkie consumed with need, and she would do _anything _to get her fix, even sell her own grandmother into white slavery (sorry, Nana, but it's for the best..._my _best).

Last night, she and Luna had conspired to tease Lincoln, get him flustered, then pounce him like two lionesses in heat. Sam was going to take the lead, then Luna was going to come in once he was too weak to resist...too far gone to care that the girl kissing his mouth and rubbing him through his pants was his older sister.

She figured she'd get a little excited - duh, of course she would - but she had no freaking _idea_. Oh my God. She came _this _close to grabbing Lincoln's hand and jamming it between her legs. He wouldn't even have to do anything, just let her grind it for a minute or two and uhhhh, sweet release.

That wasn't the plan, though. She was originally going to stand up and...whoops, my towel fell off, now my tight young body is entirely exposed. From there, she was going to climb into his lap, run her fingers through his hair, and French kiss him until he quivered like a puddle of jelly. When he was love drunk, she'd tag Luna in and they'd feel their way along from there...literally.

Only there was a slight change of plans.

Namely, Luna chickening out like a big, nervous baby.

Sigh.

If Lincoln were literally any other guy, and if the best part of what was to come wasn't watching him lose his V-card to his big sister, Sam would have forged on ahead by herself. Forget Luna. Love you, hun, but you snooze, you lose. Sam couldn't do that so that meant she had to stand down.

And, sister, standing down was hard. Have you ever been cucked, cock-blocked, blue-balled, or otherwise interrupted at the height of arousal? If not, it's like being constipated, impacted, and filled with hot, liquid metal all at the same time. Her crotch ached (and not in a good way), and fingers of panicky desperation squeezed her like the cold, steely arms of a vise. Her body had readied itself for penetration, and denied that, it clammed up or something and now she hurt. Hormones meant to facilitate the biological act of sex flooded her bloodstream in anticipation of being burned off by lots of thrusting. Well, that didn't happen, and now they just kind of sat there, like uneaten fruit rotting in a bowl. Rage, grief, and (strangely) fear coursed through her like acid, the latter because _God, what if this doesn't happen? I want it to happen so bad. I NEED it. _She felt like crying, kicking her feet, screaming, and -

Just ugh.

She shot a dirty look at the back of Luna's head. This was _her _fault for being a giant sissy.

Sam took a deep breath and let it out. She was acting like a brat. This was about Luna, not her. Still, she was horny and backed up and the more time she spent next to Lincoln, the better he looked and the better the thought of his dick became. If this kept up much longer, she'd lose control, knock Luna out of the way, and take him for herself. The blonde couldn't help it. She'd already gotten herself in a certain frame of mind, believing she and Luna were on the same page, and by the time she realized they weren't her fuse had already been lit. Her entire body felt like one angry, denied, overstimulated nerve ending.

Presently, they were standing before a display in the vaulted main hall of the Detroit Natural History Museum. Hairy Neanderthals with sloped brows and loincloths populated a camp composed of grass huts surrounding a fire. Their fixed expressions and wooden poses, as though they had been frozen in the middle of their day by a villain escaped from a Marvel movie, creeped Sam out. One of the mannequins, a woman, sat by the fire with a baby on her lap. That meant that sometime in recent memory, she had hot, dirty, gross Neanderthal sex. Sam envisioned her lying back in the dirt with her legs up in the air and a caveman slamming savagely into her, and her core pinched.

Normally, masculinity didn't do much for Sam, but that image of a big, burly caveman taking what he wanted by brute force made her melt. Maybe it was the hormones. The purpose of sex is to reproduce, and big, masculine men are usually the carriers of primo sperm, making insimination more likely. They emit, you know, pheromones and stuff, and the girl picks up on it, like a strong, savory, yummy scent. She was primed and ready to go, her body demanding its biological purpose be served, so it made sense that manliness would suddenly turn her on. Lincoln wasn't the manliest man in man town, but he definitely had his own type of charm, and she found herself especially vulnerable to it at the moment. It was making her crazy.

Too crazy. Through the fog of lust hazing her brain, she knew she was being rash, knew that her grip on her own emotions was beginning to slip. Since leaving the apartment, she had stayed as far away from the boy as possible (which wasn't very far) because she couldn't trust herself to not do something stupid. She had to think clearly. They were at a vital junction here and one little misstep could ruin everything.

Thinking clearly when you're so turned on your nipples poke through the fabric of your eighties butt rock band T is kind of hard, though. Every time she tried to focus, thoughts of Lincoln and Luna sauntered sexily across her mind, and her spitting core clutched so hard she doubled over. This was, like, super horniness. Had she ever been this hard up? She didn't think so. She didn't mean to brag, but when it came to matters of sex, she always got her way and just so happened to never get blue-balled (blue-overies'd?).

Not this time, though. She was deprived and bothered and flooded with unused hormones and the prospect of not burning them off through a little sexy-sex made her restless.

Lincoln and Luna stood awkwardly side by side and chatted about the display (_those cavepeople, huh?_) and just seeing them there made Sam weak in the knees. Her eyes darted from one Loud butt to the other, and her teeth brushed her lower lip. They both had tight little tushies and it took everything Sam had to keep from squeezing them both. _Wow, guys, nice genes._

She came so close to doing it that her hands cupped instinctively, but she stopped herself.

Just barely.

She took a deep, shivery breath and turned her head away from the source of her arousal. Off to the right, a group of kids gawked at a display of dinosaur bones, and elsewhere, an old janitor pushed a wheeled trash barrel toward the front lobby, its itty bitty tires making a clunking sound. Sam focused on that instead of Lincoln and Luna's yummy bodies smooshed together in carnal sin. Was one of those wheels wobbling? She bet it was. One wheel _always _wobbles. You'd think they came off the assembly line that way.

Luna laughed at something Lincoln said, and Sam detected a note of nervousness. Either he said something really messed up and she was mad uncomfortable (_heh, nice racist joke, bro_) or she was anxious in general. Plotting to seduce your brother will do that to you, Sam imagined.

Sighing, Sam fought to keep her gaze from drifting back to Lincoln but lost. She drank him in like crystal mountain water, her pussy and nipples aching in time. Her face blushed hot and scarlet and her heart pounded.

This was about Luna, she reminded herself, and Luna obviously wasn't ready to take the final plunge. The spirit was willing but the flesh was weak. Actually, flip that: The flesh was primed and ready to go but the spirit was a shy little girl who couldn't bring itself to claim what it wanted. It needed to be pushed. It needed...like, you know when a door's jammed closed and you have to wedge a crowbar into the gap between it and the frame? That's what it needed. And it needed lots of it apparently. Sam got it. Lincoln was her brother and he meant a lot to her, this was a hella risky proposition. Still...ugh, c'mon, girl.

Now Sam was fidgeting. Her damp panties clung to her swollen lips and her mind scrambled. She needed to come up with a new plan but right now, thinking was harder than third grade was for Leni (sorry, Leni). She bunched her lips to the side. She needed...she needed…

Her eyes landed on a little blue sign tacked to the wall. BATHROOMS read the white text. An arrow pointed in the direction of the main doors.

She didn't have a choice. She wasn't going to be able to get her head right until she got this monkey off her back.

"I gotta hit the little girls' room," she said, making both Luna and Lincoln start. Before they could reply, she turned and strode off, her stride deliberate and purposeful. Sexy thoughts chased after her, and she quickened her step. Can't catch...and ya caught me. Welp, I tried.

At the bathroom door, she looked suspiciously around like a burglar preparing to break and enter, then ducked in when she saw that the coast was clear. Inside, one of the fluorescent lights flickered overhead and shredded bits of toilet paper littered the tiled floor. Sam listened, then went to the far stall, checking each one on the way to make sure they were empty. She locked the door behind her, turned, and sucked her stomach in - she wasn't a big girl, but these jeans were crazy tight. She wore them because they made her butt look delicious.

Undoing the button, she wiggled her hips and slid them to her ankles, then her underwear. A puff of sultry heat rolled from between her legs, and the scent of her own passion perfumed the air. In her addled state, she couldn't tell if it was pleasant or repellant. Who salivates from their own pheromones?

She swallowed.

Apparently her.

The blonde sat on the cold toilet seat and spread her knees far apart. She was hot from head to toe now and her nipples throbbed in time with her unsteady heart. She licked her lips and slipped her hand between her thighs. She ran her middle finger teasingly between her slit and grimaced at the molten heat of her natural lubrication. Her breathing changed, becoming shallow, panting, and her stomach rumbled. She swallowed again and swirled her finger gently around the rim of her opening. Bursts and whorls of sensation broke over her and her breathing caught in her chest with a halting gasp. She move to her clit, rubbing a light circle over it. Tingles raced up her spine and her toes curled in pleasure.

Biting her lower lip, she went faster. She tossed her head to one side, moaned, then bit down on her knuckle to keep from crying out. She pictured Lincoln on top of her, ramming himself deep into her womb, and she let out a needy whimper that echoed in the confined space.

Sizzling fluid ran down the folds between her thighs and pussy and her fingers produced a sloppy squelching sound not unlike someone stepping in mud. She pulled her hand away from her mouth, thrust it up the front of her T-shirt, and clutched her pert breast. She pinched and tweaked it, pulling and twsiting, imagining Luna sucking it while her brother thrusted harder, faster, his precum minging with hers, their bodies engaging in a dance as old as time, give and take, his dick expanding, pushing her walls out, hot, aching, fuck.

Her orgasm hit her like a speeding bus and she cried out at the top of her lungs, her back arching sharply and her body shaking violently. Her eyes rolled back into her head and she plunged her index and middle fingers deep into her bucking pussy. She bore down on her teeth and thrust her hips back and forth, riding a dick that wasn't there and sucking pretend seed deep into her stomach. She whipped her head back and forth and opened her eyes to narrow slits, sweaty hair veiling her vision. She could almost see Lincoln's face screwing up in pleasure as his load spilled out of him, and that made her cum even harder.

Tingling warmth spread through her and for a while she sat there with her panties around her knees and her jeans pooled on the floor. She closed her eyes, tilted her head back, and basked in the hazy afterglow like a cat in a bar of sunshine.

Slowly, she came back to earth. The smell of stale piss and dirty toilets found her nose, and she became acutely aware of her juices drying on her inner thighs. In the heat of the moment, it was hot and sexy. Now it was just gross. And speaking of gross, she had seriously gotten herself so worked up she'd straight up jilled off in a public bathroom.

_Keep on rockin', Sam Sharp._

She groaned, leaning over and grabbing a wad of toilet paper from the dispenser to clean up as best she could. The blonde stood, pulled her pants and underwear up, and smoothed out the front of her T-shirt. She listened for signs that someone had come in during her fun, and when she didn't hear any, she unlatched the door, eased it open, and poked her head out.

Nothing.

The girl at last slipped out, washed her hands, and dried them on a paper towel. Now that she had _that _off her chest, she could think a little better. She went over the facts in her mind with an almost zen-like, post-coital clarity. Luna was understandably apprehensive about this whole thing, and maybe she was right to be. Perhaps they should forget about it. Luna would go on yearning for Lincoln and Sam would go on yearning for Luna and Lincoln to bang, but they could live with that, couldn't they? It wouldn't be the end of the world. Nothing lost, nothing gained, right? It was a stalemate or whatever they call it.

Only Sam didn't want that and she knew that deep down, Luna didn't want it either. She _wanted_ her brother to rut her like he just came home from boot camp after six months of not so much as even seeing a woman. She wanted it bad. And if Luna could just loosen up, she'd -

An idea stuck Sam like a bolt from the blue and she stiffened up. She turned it over in her mind a few times, as though looking for weak points. She found several, but none bad enough to convince her to leave it alone. There was merit to the approach that had just occurred to her, Sam was certain of it. The details still needed some work, but...In any case, for now the name of the game was to play it cool. No more of this trying to seduce Lincoln business. Nope. Until she put this final plan into action, she would play the dutiful sister-in-law and nothing more.

Decided, she balled up the paper towel, tossed it at the trash can, and left the bathroom. Back in the lobby, Lincoln and Luna had moved onto a glass case full of arrowheads and fragments of Native American pottery. Sam's sticky thighs rubbed against her jeans and she stopped twice on the way over to scratch. The last time, a fat woman passing by craned her neck and furrowed a disapproving brow. "How unladylike," she humphed.

_I got your lady hanging, _Sam thought but didn't say.

She caught up to Lincoln and Luna at the dinosaur exhibit. She fell in beside Lincoln, and to her chagrin, he cringed a little, as though he thought she was going to do something to him. Like jump his bones so hard they shattered, maybe?

_Heh. _Soon, pretty boy. But not today. "You guys almost done?" she asked. "I'm starving." Hers and Luna's gaze met behind Lincoln's back, and she glimpsed a flutter of uneasiness in her girlfriend's eyes.

"Not yet," Luna said, "uh...we haven't seen everything."

Poor, beknighted Luna didn't know that plans had changed. She thought Sam was going to force her into a three way the moment they left and was trying to stall. Tsk, tsk, tsk. "Alright," Sam said with a casual shrug. "Let's see the rest then."

For the next hour and a half, Sam followed Lincoln and Luna through all three of the museum's floors. They oohed at rocks, awwed at bones, creamed themselves with excitement over diagrams of prehistoric Detroit. By unspoken consent, Luna led the way, and as Sam half expected, she moved at the speed of delay. Sam was prepared to wait a little longer for what was to come, but she was _not _ready to spend all day in a museum looking at bones and ancient pieces of driftwood. History was cool and all, but she perfred the kind with people. You know, like battles and stuff. Once you went back to nothing but dinosaurs and plants, it got seriously boring and you lost her like a sock in the dryer.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, they came back to the main doors with nothing left to see. "Can we go eat now?" Sam asked. "I'm...really hungry."

She _was _going to say _I'm food-horny, _but she caught herself at the last second. Nope, bad Sam. Comments like that aren't going to help you achieve your goals here. You have to be clean, calm, cool, and very collected.

Neither Lincoln _nor _Luna could know.

Keeping Luna in the dark _might _be kind of messed up, but it was for everyone's own good. Bringing her in didn't get them where they needed to be the last time she did it, so Samantha Sharp had to go it alone. Not that she minded. They might call Lincoln the man with the plan, but he's not the only one who can hatch a strategy. All she'd needed to do was recalibrate her angle of attack.

A look of worry ran across Luna's face, and she looked at Lincoln. "You hungry, bro?" This time she sounded like she _wanted _to go out. That way they didn't have to go back to the apartment.

"Sure," Lincoln said, "I could eat."

"Let's go then," Sam chirped happily.

The museum sat on a tastefully manicured corner of Weston Avenue, a broad lane boasting fashionable shops, sidewalk cafes, and wrought iron lamp posts that always put Sam in mind of Victorian London for some reason (maybe she was murdered by Jack the Ripper in a past life). Men in suits and women in designer clothes and bug-eye sunglasses paraded up and down the street as if for an unseen audience and the cars parked at the curb looked like they cost more than she and Luna made in a year.

After a gruelling, two mile death march into a cheaper section of town, they settled on an Irish pub with an adjoining patio. Music filtered from unseen speakers and a waitress weaved between tables with trays of fish, corn beef and cabbage, and hamburgers. A perky blonde hostess with a ponytail hugged a stack of menus to her chest like a girl clutching her school books and marched them to a table in an out of the way corner cast in the shade of a leafy tree overhanging the iron gate. Warm wind caressed Sam's flushed face and food smells wrapped themselves around her like clouds of cartoon aroma.

The waitress put a menu in front of each of them and whipped an order pad out of her waist apron. She clicked her pen crazily, reminding Sam of an Old West gunslinger, and held it to the paper, her expression all business. "Can I get you anything to drink?"

Of course not. Duh. Who has a drink with their meal? "I'll take a Coke," Sam said.

Nodding, the waitress jotted that down, then turned to Luna, who for some strange reason looked like a deer in the headlights. "Uh...Coke too, I guess."

The waitress wrote Luna's order, then looked at Lincoln. "I'll have a Coke as well.'

"Three Cokes," the waitress said to herself, as though she'd forget otherwise. She clicked her pen closed and rushed off, her butt wiggling beneath her tight black pants.

Alone with her victims - err, coconspierers - Sam leaned back in her chair and blew a weary puff of air that stirred her blue tipped bangs. "Well, we managed to kill a few hours," she said and consulted the invisible watch on her wrist. "I say we go to Chuck E. Cheese after this."

Lincoln stared down at his unopened menu and Luna pretended to read the label on the table's resident bottle of ketchup. "Why?" she asked. "We're not kids."

"There's no age limit on fun," Sam pointed out, "and they have awesome games there. Like the one where you have to put out fires." She clucked her tongue and shot Luna a finger gun.

Luna frowned confusedly at the ketchup. Sam bet she was wondering why she wasn't rushing them back to the apartment to begin the fun. _You're not twisting my arm? What gives?_

Or maybe Sam had a guilty conscience or something. Who knew?

"Or we could go bowling," Sam offered. "Bowling's fun."

In actuality, Sam thought bowling was just okay. When you had a big group of people to do it with, it was different - competition and friendly ribbing makes everything fun. Bowling, however, was, to her knowledge, one of the few wholesome activities you can do in the city. Then again, she and Luna were homebodies when they weren't working, so she didn't know much.

Luna's eyes narrowed suspiciously and she looked up at Sam. "Uh..sure, that sounds fun."

What she actually wanted to say was _You're not forcing this. Why? _Of that, Sam was utterly convinced. "You like to bowl, Linc?" Sam asked.

Lincoln gave a jerky nod. "Yeah, yeah, bowling's fun." There was a slight tremor in his voice and it cracked on the word _fun_. "I like to bowl."

"Ten bucks says I'll beat you," Sam proclaimed. That was a risky proposition since she wasn't a very good bowler. Lincoln probably wasn't all that great himself, but he stood a real chance at beating her.

"I don't have ten bucks," Lincoln said. "I have to get paid first."

Sam shrugged. "Then owe it to me."

"I dont know…"

She smirked. "Unless you're chicken."

Lincoln opened his mouth, then lifted and lowered one shoulder. "Okay, fine."

The waitress came back with their drinks and sat them on the table. No one was ready to order yet so she gave them a few more minutes. When she was gone, Sam did a double take at Luna's glass. "Whoops, she gave you mine by mistake."

Luna's brow knitted. "They're literally the same -"

Ignoring her, Sam reached out, and Luna swatted her hand. "Get outta here," she said, "this is _mine_." A ghost of a smile traced the corners of her lips and her eyes twinkled like summer starlight. Sam leaned over to grab the cup, and Luna took it away. "Stop, dude. This isn't yours. It belongs to _me._"

"No, I'm telling you, it's mine. I ordered root beer."

Luna rolled her eyes. "No you didn't. I heard you. You ordered Coke. _I _ordered root beer."

"Oops," Sam said, playing along, "my mistake." She sat back against her chair, and grinned at Luna's expression.

"You're up to something." The brunette narrowed her eyes, sipping her soda possessively.

Sam innocently shook her head. "Nope, nothing." She crossed her legs, picked up her menu, and opened it. "Just gonna order some yummy food. I'm not still plotting to steal your drink or anything." She stole a look over her menu and Luna fondly shook her head.

Giving up on parting Luna with her Coke (for now), Sam scanned the laminant pages for something good. She and Luna had been here a few times in the past but she honestly couldn't remember what they served or even if it was good or not. The pictures showed typical bar stuff - burgers, chicken wings, pizza - but there was also an extensive selection labeled "sit-down meals." Pot roast, pasta, chicken parm, mussels, meatloaf, and lamb chops with mint sauce and sour cream.

Yuck.

Lincoln and Luna studied their menus with the careful deliberation of scholars examining ancient texts. Lincoln closed his first and sat it down, followed closely by Luna. "What're you guys getting?"

"Pasta," the said in unison, then glanced bemusedly at each other. "Does it remind you of Dad's?" Luna asked knowingly.

Lincoln chuckled and looked down at the table. "Yeah, it does," he said. "The picture looks a lot like it."

Oh? Sam found it in her own menu and frowned. It was literally egg noodles lightly drizzled in pale, sickly-looking marinara sauce. "Ew," she said and crinkled her nose, "your dad used to make this?"

Shamefaced, they both nodded. "Yeah, it wasn't the best," Luna said.

"But it's...it brings back memories,"Lincoln finished.

Aww. That was very sweet. Sam, however, preferred _not _dying of food poisoning, so she opted for a burger instead. The waitress made her way back over and took their food orders, then went off again, side-stepping two women sharing a friendly embrace in the middle of the patio and blocking the way. While they waited, Lincoln scrolled through his phone and Luna watched people passing by on the sidewalk. Sam sipped her Coke and stole surreptitious looks at Lincoln. A dirty thought started to form in her head but she quashed it like a pesky weed. If she entertained sexy thoughts, she'd get hot and bothered again, and getting hot and bothered at this juncture was not a good idea. She needed to be on top of her game, not a fevered, drooling mess indulging in fantasies of taking her girlfriend's brother into her mouth and slowly pumping his shaft...then drinking his thick, creamy seed like the good little -

Agh! She was doing it! She wrestled control of herself from the jaws of lust and took a drink of Coke as if to fortify herself. This wasn't going to be easy, was it? Of course it wasn't. The universe _really _wanted her to work for it.

Fine. Challenge accepted.

But how? She didn't want to come on too strong at not coming on strong. Time, that's what she needed, time. It wasn't going to happen overnight. How many days did Lincoln have left before he had to go back to school? Like, five, right?

She hummed thoughtfully and turned a new idea over and over in her mind. Okay. She was overthinking this.

Shortly, the food came and they all dug in. They chatted as they ate, and just as Sam was cramming the last of her burger into her mouth, her phone rang. She knew who it was even before she dug it out of her pocket.

Steve.

Her manager.

Great.

She answered it. "Hello?"

"Hey," Steve said, sounding winded, "I know you're off today but could you please, please, _please _come in? Jeff was a no call, no show and I've been doing everything by myself. I'm about to go postal. It'll only be a few hours."

Sam sighed.

Well...since her hands were kind of tied and she couldn't do much on the Lincoln and Luna front, going into work wasn't such a bad thing. At least it got her out of the apartment and focused on other things.

"Yeah," she unenthusiastically, hoping against hope that her tone would be enough to persuade him to let her off the hook, "I guess." She glanced over her shoulder. She was a good sixteen blocks from work, but it was a nice day and she didn't mind walking. That would take her...what...twenty minutes? "Give me half an hour."

"Alright," Steve said in a relieved rush, "thank you so much, I really appreciate it."

Yeah, yeah, yeah, Sam Sharp to the rescue yet again. "No problem," she said and hung up. Luna favored her with a quizzical look. "Steve," Sam answered. "I gotta go." She picked up a handful of fries, crammed them into her mouth, and washed them down with the last of her Coke.

Luna sagged in her chair. If Sam knew her (and she kind of did), she didn't want to be alone with Lincoln. Not now. "Who called out this time?" she asked bitterly.

"Jeff," Sam said.

"Of course it's Jeff."

Eighteen and fresh out of school, Jeff Simmons was talk, lanky, and dressed like Jamie Kennedy in _Malibu's Most Wanted_: Snapbacks, sagging shorts, wife beaters, fake gold chains he likely got from a grocery store vending machine (you know, the kind that come in a little plastic capsule that looks like something the Jetsons would fly around in). He was the kind of guy who came in late, did the absolute bare minimum, then left early and complained on his way out the door that he was tired from working so hard. He called out at least once a week and every so often, you'd look out the window and see him walking by. Like, dude, I thought you had Captain Trips, what gives? Sam had to pick up his slack a lot, and she may or may not have bitched about him to Luna a time or two.

"Kid's really pissing me off," Sam said and got to her feet. She stretched and let out a yawn. "I oughta say something to him."

"Don't do that," Luna cautioned.

Sam had been close to calling Jeff out for months but she could be _kind _of fiery sometimes and if she did she might wind up kicking him in his butt. "I'm gonna do it eventually." She patted her pockets to make sure she had everything, then sighed. "Alright, I'll see you guys later."

She came so close to saying _behave while I'm gone _that the words filled her mouth like a stinky belch, but she swallowed them down. She leaned over, kissed Luna's cheek, then hesitated before mussing Lincoln's hair. She didn't want to be _too _affectionate with the guy, but she also didn't want to pull back 100 percent. That'd look really suspicious. "Later, Linc," she said, "I'll kick your ass at bowling some other time."

"You can try," he grinned, finding himself surprisingly comforted by Sam's offhand tenderness.

"Uh-huh, keep talking," she said. She started off, then turned, grabbed Luna's Coke, and drank it. Luna pursed her lips and nodded to herself as if to say _I should have seen _that _coming_. "Love you," Sam said.

And on her way to work?

She plotted.


	10. Mixed Emotions

Lincoln Loud hefted the box with a grunt, stumbled backwards, and nearly fell. His back screamed, his arm muscles strained, and tears of exertion sprang to his eyes. He spun in a slow, cumbersome circle and lumbered out of the storeroom on bent, shaking knees. A brief hall lined with metal shelving lead to the counter and the almost-empty dining room beyond; a fat man in a business suit sat in one of the booths and made love to pastrami on rye and an old woman in a sleeveless white blouse that bared the varicose veins in her arms read from a romance paperback while her half eaten egg salad sandwich sat lonely on her plate.

Sweating and trembling like a powerlifter struggling to pick up a thousand pound dumb bell, Lincoln sat the box on the counter, leaned over, and fought to catch his breathing. D'Von, his coworker, opened an overhead microwave, took out a toasted ham and cheese on Italian, and dropped it on the line. He added lettuce and tomatoes, then checked the ticket for what other toppings the customer wanted.

When he trusted himself not to fall over dead, Lincoln grabbed a razor from under the counter and cut the packing tape holding the flaps of the box in place. He opened them, reached it, and took out a stack of napkins. He put them away, then grabbed another, and another. Once the box was empty, he broke it down and took it outside. It was past dusk and a warm breeze scented the night. Stars glinted overhead and the dull roar of the A/C unit drowned out the sounds drifting from the street out front.

The dumpsters were in an enclosure on the other side of the back parking lot. He was twenty feet away when the rancid stench of trash hit him full force. He crinked his nose and closed his mouth to avoid breathing any in. The dumpster was emptied once a week. By the time garbage day rolled around, it was overloaded and stank so bad you needed a gas mask just to walk outside. The manager, Bob, told the owner several times that they needed increased trash removal, but the owner never did anything about it: This was one of several properties he owned and probably the one he cared about least, so he came by about as often as Haley's Comet.

Holding his breath, Lincoln opened the gate, went in, and tossed the box into the bin marked SINGLE STREAM RECYCLING. A small, dark shadow streaked out from behind the dumpster and Lincoln jumped back in alarm. It darted past him, so close he could smell its wild odor, then bounded away into the night. Even in the middle of the city, possums, raccoons, and other small mammals were a fact of life. He didn't get a good look at it but he was sure it was one of those.

Either that or a giant rat.

A shiver went down his spine and he hurried back inside. The old woman had left while he was gone and the fat man's table stood empty, but his briefcase was propped in one of the chairs, suggesting he was in the bathroom. D'Von swept behind the line, and seeing the writing on the wall (WE'RE ABOUT TO CLOSE, BRACE YOURSELVES), Lincoln went to the janitor's closet and filled the mop bucket with soap and Mop-It-Once. He grabbed the mop, put it in, and wheeled the bucket into the dining room just as the fat man left through the door.

'Yo, you good to close without me?" D'Von asked from behind the register.

"Yeah, I'm good," Lincoln said.

After D'Von left, Lincoln mopped the floor, starting at the front door and ending at the back, emptied the bucket into the sink, and turned off all the lights. He set the security alarm, then went out the door, locking it behind him. The moon, wrapped in thin gray clouds, stared down at him like a skeletal face peeking through a rotting burial shroud. Heyya, Linc, howzit goin'? A warm gust of wind washed over him and flicked his cowlick, and he could almost believe in ghosts.

The bus stop stood desolate save for a single .40 ounce can of beer lying on its side, rolling back and forth as the breeze dictated. Lincoln sat on the bench, hunched forward at the waist, and rested his forearms on his knees.

Earlier, he decided to tell Sam and Luna that he had to leave. He was having thoughts that he had no right having and every innocent little thing Sam did convinced him a little more that she was flirting with him. He was so turned on the other day that he called Luna's...ya know…"sweet fruit." Just thinking about it made him gag. He didn't know why all of a sudden he was spazzing out but he was and sticking around probably wasn't the smartest idea. He was like a man infected with a contagious virus; he needed to be quarantined stat. If he wasn't, he might do something stupid. Like mistaking Sam's friendly hello for a come-on, then losing his mind to lust and grabbing her butt.

Was he mistaken though? He went back to breakfast that morning, Sam clad in nothing but a towel and batting her eyelashes at him like an old-fashioned maiden waving her handkerchief in the face of the man she fancied. That was kind of hard to misinterpret. Then again, he was a noob when it came to women. He wouldn't know if one liked him for sure until she grabbed him by the front of his shirt and shoved her tongue down his throat, and even then he might be too dense to get it.

He thought Sam was making passes at him but he honestly didn't know, and that endlessly frustrated him. The best thing he could do was separate himself from the situation by running back to school with his tail between his legs. It was the only way.

During his outing with Sam and Luna that afternoon, he pumped himself up, but chickened out every time he resolved to get it over with and tell them. He looked for luls and openings in which to say something, but there weren't many, and he passed up the ones that did come along because it wasn't the right moment, or because he didn't want to put a damper on things. He looked high and low for excuses and he found them in spades, but one always does when they put their mind to it. He kept telling himself he was putting it off because it would be awkward and probably upset Luna, but now, alone with his thoughts for the first time in hours, he realized something.

He didn't want to leave.

He kept scrounging for reasons to put it off a little longer because he wanted to stay...just in case he was right about Sam liking him.

Wasn't that terrible? Sam was his sister's girlfriend and he was...what? Hoping they could...be together?

His heartbeat sped up and his stomach twisted into knots.

And what about Luna? She was acting strange too. First she was flirty just like Sam, then she got really quiet and contemplative, as though carefully examining every life choice that had led her to this moment in time while trying really hard to pretend she wasn't. That didn't mean anything, he guessed, but it still struck him as strange. Luna wasn't quiet and brooding, she was fun, outgoing, and dynamic. When she was around, the room came to life and electricity crackled in the air. She wasn't like that today. She was…

He couldn't put his finger on it. Brooding, yes, but there was something else, an undercurrent flowing just below the surface like a deadly riptide beneath deceptively still waters, a presence whose very exstence exuded a certain energy like chill from a block of ice.

If he didn't know any better, he'd say it was fear.

Fear of what? Fear of him taking Sam away? Fear of Sam taking him? Both? Neither? Something else? After Sam left, he and Luna finished their lunch and walked back to the apartment. She was stiff and uncomfortable at first, but she eventually relaxed, and by the time they reached the building, they were talking and laughing as they always had.

Was he imagining things?

Of course, there could be other answers. Maybe she and Sam got into a fight (though they were lovey-dovey at the restaurant, so that wasn't likely) or maybe she was on her period. That makes girls hormonal and stuff. On the other hand, she wasn't one to wear that kind of thing on her sleeve. He always knew when Lori was having hers because she'd get crampy, weepy, and curl up in bed, and Luan would suddenly stop making stupid puns because she felt bloated and mserable. Luna, though...he could never tell. She was laid back and easygoing no matter what. She had her moments - everyone does - but she was a placid and consistent person.

So her sour mood probably didn't come from menstruation. Did it come from the way Sam was acting?

That was the most likely culprit.

And another reason he should leave. He was coming between them somehow. The possibility of them having had a fight made the most sense. They argued over something and now Sam was trying to make Luna jealous or something by coming onto him.

But he didn't feel any friction between them. They were hugging, kissing, and playful at the restaurant. You don't do that with someone you're mad at. You cross your arms and pointedly look in the other direction, or glare at them, or...or something.

This was all so confusing and his head was starting to ache. He didn't understand what was going on or why but he felt guilty anyway, like he was playing some willing part in this. But here was the kicker: He didn't even know what "this" was.

Or even if there was a "this." He was inclined to believe that he was jumping at shadows and reading into things that weren't there.

Yet another reason he needed to leave.

The bus pulled to a stop at the curb, and with a heavy sigh, Lincoln got to his feet. The driver, a gaunt black man who favored Barack Obama, watched him warily as he boarded and dropped his change into the fare box. Keeping his head down, he made his way to the back and sat in a seat by the window. His watery reflection stared back at him, its face haggard and drawn, and he swallowed with an audible click. A snatchet of song bubbled to the surface of his mind and it was so fitting that he couldn't suppress a wan smile. Should I stay or should I go now? He couldn't remember the rest, but it perfectly encapsulated how he felt. Leaving would be the smart thing to do. Maybe Sam was coming onto him, maybe she wasn't, but getting out of Dodge would benefit everyone.

Only...he didn't want to. He wanted to stay...just in case.

Just in case what?

He cut that thought off before it could come.

Nothing. Just in case nothing.

Just in case Sam really did want -

She didn't, okay? And he didn't want her. He was being an incel spaz and latching onto a girl's friendly banter because…

Because he was lonely.

He didn't have a girlfriend, didn't even know how to talk to girls, and it was starting to get to him. He wanted someone to love and kiss and cuddle and...and all that stuff with. He wanted someone he could do the same stuff that Luna did with Sam. They were so free and easy with each other, almost like they were sisters who had known and loved each other their entire lives. No, that wasn't right. They were two halves of the same whole, yin and yang, two bodies, one soul. They completed and complemented each other, and when Lincoln really thought about it, he wanted that so badly it hurt.

Was he subconsciously trying to take Sam away from Luna? Was he trying to fill the void in his own heart by stealing his sister's girlfriend?

That gave him pause. Everything he thought Sam was doing could very well be his own mind playing tricks on him, getting him to think she wanted him.

He pondered that for six blocks before pushing out a heavy sigh. He didn't know. He didn't know anything anymore. He was so turned around and inside out that down was up and right was left.

All the more reason to remove himself from the equation. He could go back to school, clear his head, and get over whatever issues he had. When summer started, he could visit Sam and Luna again, then take a bus to Royal Woods.

Yeah.

That's what he'd do.

As soon as he got to Sam and Luna's, he'd tell them he had to leave in the morning.

For the next three miles, he tried to dredge up a convincing lie, and was still fumbling for one when he got off at his stop.

The moon sat high in the heavens and wind blew between the shadow-wrapped buildings lining the street. Lincoln shoved his hands into his pockets, bent his head against the breeze, and quickened his step. Cars passed in either direction, and a group of black men sat on the crumbling stoop of a brownstone tenement, the warm smell of weed thick in the air. They laughed uproariously at something Lincoln missed. He couldn't help thinking it was him.

At the end of the block, he turned a corner and glanced reflexively up at Sam and Luna's building. It stood black against the stars, windows all ablaze with light. Disquiet gripped him and he came to a shuffling stop, feet scraping the pavement. He gulped like a man faced with a giant, flesh eating monster and his bowels quivered. A little voice in the back of his head told him to turn around, catch the last bus, and take it back to his dorm. He could call Luna once he got there, tell her a friend texted him and needed his help. Yeah, Jeff's really drunk. I know I've never mentioned him before and he has the exact same name as the guy Sam was talking about earlier, what a coincidence, right? Would she buy that?

Did it matter if she bought it?

He drew a deep breath through his nose and let it out in an even rush. Whether she did or not, his duffle bag with all of his clothes was in there, sitting between the couch and the end table. He'd have to go back and get it sooner rather than later.

Resigned to his fate, he started walking again. He paused once more in a pool of rusty orange light cast by a streetlamp, wavered, then forced himself on. In the lobby, a woman in jeans and a halter top stood at the mailboxes and chatted with a man in a wife beater, and somewhere, bass heavy rap music played. Lincoln climbed the steps with all the enthusiasm of a man on his way to the gas chamber and hated himself for already thinking about putting off leaving yet again.

At the door, Lincoln hesitated, then knocked. The muffled sound of footsteps approached and the knob rattled. When Sam appeared in a white T-shirt and plaid lounge pants, his heart rocketed into his throat and almost shot out of his mouth like a wad of phlegm.

He expected her to half-lid her eyes, press herself to the doorjamb, and grind herself against the frame like a bitch in heat. Instead, she gave a curt nod. "Hey, Linc." She turned around and went back to the couch, leaving him to stand dumbly at the threshold.

Hey, Linc.

T-That's all?

For a second, he stayed where he was, then went in and shut the door behind him but didn't go any farther. Sam sat on the couch with her arms crossed and stared at the TV where a man in sunglasses and a leather jacket did a vigorous Charleston to Cake By The Ocean. Lincoln looked around for Luna but didn't see her, and his stomach clinched. "Is Luna here?" he asked, hating the childish inflection in his voice.

"Nah, she's still at work," Sam said.

Oh.

So they were alone.

A vision flashed across his mind like the killing blade of a knife: Sam seductively licking ice cream from a spoon and looking at him with eyes that triggered deep, primal urges the way a female cat's scent does in toms. His throat went completely dry and suddenly he itched all over like he was covered in bugs. He lowered his gaze to the floor, rubbed the back of his neck, and worked up enough saliva to wet the inside of his mouth. What should he do? Hide until Luna got back? There weren't exactly many places in the apartment where an adult male could lose himself. The bathroom, maybe, but that was about it.

Sam went on looking at the TV, its blow glow reflecting in her eyes, and Lincoln scratched his head. Was it just him, or was the silence between them uncomfortable? He surreptitiously studied her face. Serene. Untroubled. The way a girl - or boy - sitting on their couch and watching television should be.

Then she looked at him, and his heart skipped a beat.

"Can you sit down?" she asked. "You're making me nervous."

Lincoln blinked in surprise. "Sure," he said.

There was only one place to sit.

The couch.

The nape of his neck tingled, and steeling himself like Danial descending into the lion's den, he scurried past Sam and sat against the arm, as far from her as he could get; a gap of two feet separated them, and if she wanted to, she could reach out and touch him.

She didn't.

Instead, she gave her full and undivided attention to the screen. The man in the sunglasses did a backflip, then thrust out his chest and shook what his mother gave him, which wasn't much. He was almost as thin as Lincoln. "What are you watching?" Lincoln asked when the silence became unbearable.

"Detroit's Got Game," she said.

Ah, the local talent show where city residents displayed their talents for a chance at winning a cash prize. Lincoln didn't care for it but he watched it from time to time when there was nothing else on. In his periphery, Sam shifted from one toned little butt cheek to the other as though she were starting to get restless. Lincoln cast about for something to break the uneasy pall between them. "Did you, uh, see the one with the guy who could make his eyes bulge out?"

Sam crinkled her nose. "Ew, yeah, that dude was gross."

"And the guy who ate car engines."

She threw back her head and laughed. "They didn't have someone eating engine blocks on there," she said.

"I swear," Lincoln said, "he couldn't eat the whole engine in one sitting but he could eat it. Like, he was chewing on fan belts and stuff."

Sam opened her mouth then closed it again. "Really?" she asked incredulously.

"Look him up." Lincoln said, "he eats all kinds of weird stuff. Like broken glass and 2x4s." He stopped and thought for a moment. Was that the same guy who claimed to eat twenty pounds of meat every single day? Or was that someone on My Extreme Life? He watched that show a lot. It featured people with strange addiction, habits, fetishes, and lifestyles.

Detroit's Got Game went to commercial, and Sam flopped her head back. "With or without nails?"

"Uh...I think it had nails in it, actually."

She shuddered. "Imagine what that stuff does to your insides."

"I'd rather not," Lincoln said with a sour twist of the lips.

"Imagine what it does to your butt."

A shocked laugh escaped his throat. "I really don't want to think about that."

Sam grinned. "Imagine what it does to…" she trailed off, rolled her eye to the ceiling in thought, and hummed. "Eh, I got nothing."

"Your septic tank?" Lincoln asked.

She jabbed her finger at him. "Yes, exactly. It's all filled with steel, screws, and hubcaps and every time you have it drained, you have to pay extra to have all the scraps hauled off to the junkyard."

Any chilliness that may have existed between them had begun to thaw, as they both started to relax. Just like old times, Lincoln inexplicably thought. "I'm worried about his teeth," Lincoln said, "like, how he gets all those metal shavings and stuff out."

"Heavy duty floss," Sam said confidently.

"Barbed wire," Lincoln corrected.

She snorted. "Does he eat car batteries too? Like...those are corrosive, dude. They'll eat you."

Honestly, he couldn't remember if that guy ate the battery or not. He seemed to remember there being some things that he either couldn't eat or was too nervous to try. He said as much, and Sam shrugged.

Shortly, Luna came through the door and took her coat off. Lincoln tensed and darted his eyes from her to Sam and back again.

"Hey," Luna said easily. She kicked off her shoes and came into the living room on bare feet. Her gaze flickered to Lincoln, then quickly away. Unless he was completely paranoid, there was a hint of shame in her limpid browns, as though she'd done something horrible to him and couldn't bring herself to look him in the eye. She leaned over and Sam sat up straight to join their lips. Lincoln looked away, uncomfortable...and maybe a little jealous. "How was your day?"

Sam lifted one shoulder. "Eh. I got to leave early and made double pay, so...how was yours?"

Sitting between Sam and Lincoln, Luna sighed. "Crap. But every day's crap." She glanced at Lincoln. "What about your day, bro?"

"It was alright," Lincoln said and nervously played with his hair. Luna's leg was bare inches from his own and he could feel her body heat breaking against his skin. He went back to that morning, wedged between her and Sam (the latter clad in nothing but a towel) and his throat swelled closed. Part of him wanted to lean into her, and another wanted her to go away, and they did battle in the center of his chest like anime characters.

Thankfully, she got up and went into the kitchen and he breathed a sigh of relief.

Okay, he decided, he'd tell them he had to go. Quick and painless, like ripping off a Band-Aid.

Sam stood and followed Luna into the kitchen.

When they got back.

He'd tell them when they got back.

A half an hour later, they sat on the couch with plates and forks in their hands. Tomorrow was payday, and the only thing in the pantry was instant rice. Luna doused it in salt, pepper, onion powder, red pepper flakes, and Frank's Red Hot. Lincoln's mouth tingled and even though he wasn't hungry a few minutes ago, he shoveled big forkfuls down his gullet like no tomorrow. "This is good," he said.

"I make it all the time," Luna said. "I call it Poor Person Surprise."

Lincoln swallowed. "What's the surprise?"

"Toenail clippings," Sam put in.

Luna rolled her eyes. "I don't put that in here. I use locally sourced and ethically harvested boogers."

Even though he knew she was playing, Lincoln gagged at the image of big, slimy wads of dried snot cold and gelatinous on his tongue. Luna laughed and Sam grinned around her fork. "How do those maggots taste, Michael?"

That made Luna howl and Lincoln knit his brow in confusion. "Huh?"

Sam shot him a dirty look, and he recoiled. "Dude, you've never seen The Lost Boys?"

"No," Lincoln said at length and readied himself to be ripped limb from limb in a fit of nerd rage. Sam was one of those people who think her favorite movies and music are universal and that if you don't know about them, you're either a moron or hopelessly deprived.

Instead of going after him, she turned her faux-fury on Luna. "You never showed him The Lost Boys? Bruh."

Luna shrugged. "Never got around to it."

"Well," Sam said, "we're gonna fix that right…" she glanced at her phone. "Tomorrow. It's almost bedtime."

So it was now or never. Lincoln started to tell them about needing to leave, but cut himself off. They looked so happy and bailing on them would get in the way of that.

Therefore, he didn't say anything.

For their own good.

And absolutely not for his.

Absolutely not.

* * *

Luna Loud sat up in bed by muted lamplight and crossed her bare arms over her chest. A sullen expression that had been fighting to come out all evening was tattooed to her face and beneath the cover, one foot jittered a restive tempo. In the bathroom, the shower cut off and the curtain pulled back with a series of metallic clinks. She took a deep breath and let it out evenly, but it did little to relieve the pressure building in her chest. The door opened and Sam came out in a puff of steam, clad in only a T-shirt and a towel wrapped around her head. She went to the dresser, opened a drawer, and slumped her shoulders. "You didn't do the laundry."

"No," Luna said tightly. I'm not the only one around here who can wash and dry clothes, Sam, she thought but didn't add.

"I guess I'll do it tomorrow," Sam said nonchalantly. She closed the dresser, came over to the bed, and sat down, the mattress dipping beneath her weight. She took the towel off, dried her hair, and tossed it at the hamper. It missed and landed in a heap on the floor. She kicked her legs onto the bed and nestled into her pillow. She glanced at Luna, and the words died on her lips. "I know that look."

Of course she did. They'd been together for years. If she didn't know it, that'd mean she wasn't paying attention. "What's your deal?" Luna asked.

Sam blinked. "What do you mean?"

"You were so hot to get Lincoln and then you just...stopped."

"Well," Sam said, "to be fair, you stopped."

Luna opened her mouth to fire back but Sam had her there. Last night, as they lay in bed, they planned every step they would take. They would tease Lincoln, get him ready, then attack, but when it came time to pull the trigger, Luna froze. Every happy memory she had ever made with Lincoln came back to her in a flood and she choked. Later on, she tried to identify exactly why, but her thoughts and emotions were a hopeless jumble. She was afraid of hurting their relationship, she was appalled at herself for wanting to turn something so pure and wholesome into something it was never meant to be, she hated herself for wanting him, she hated Sam for pushing her, she hated Sam for letting up when she needed to be pushed the most, and she hated the universe for turning her happy little life into a raging dumpster fire of want, lust, and need.

She didn't know where she stood right now, and that bothered her. She was normally in tune with herself but now...now she was lost and drowning. She wanted Sam to leave her alone and let things be, but she also wanted Sam to keep guiding her to Lincoln's arms the way she had been. She didn't know which she desired more, but she thought it was the latter.

"Yeah, but I...I got nervous and…"

Not knowing how to continue, she trailed off. What did she want? She had to make a decision once and for all, no more waffling, no more screwing around. Did she want to take the next step with Lincoln...or did she want things to stay as they were now?

Sam's hand fell on her knee and she jumped. "Look," Sam said softly, "I know how much this is messing you up...I shouldn't have forced you, okay? I'm sorry. I just thought it'd make you happy and I, like, overreacted. It was wrong of me to shove my nose where it didn't belong and I'm sorry." She sighed, as though she'd finally gotten something that was bothering her off her chest. "The choice is yours. I won't meddle anymore. If you want, we can keep going. And if you don't, we can stop."

For a long time, Luna digested her girlfriend's words.

Up to you.

But that was just it. She didn't know what to do. It was part of the reason that, despite all her earlier complaints, she had wanted Sam to push her. Was grateful for it, even if she wouldn't admit it. If she was just going with the flow, then none of it was her fault. None of it was her responsibility. But now, disguised in consideration and compassion, Luna felt like that was exactly what Sam was asking her to do. To really commit and chase this dream of hers, whether it had a good ending or not.

She was at an impasse. Two roads converged in front of her, one leading to Lincoln, and the other leading to Lincoln also...but this version was naked. The image knocked a stressed laugh from her throat.

"...I don't know." She finally whispered, holding her head in her hands. Her voice was a tense squeak, and the faint but real note of despair it carried belied the depths of Luna's anxiety. "I don't know what to do. I just..." She turned to her girlfriend, eyes dewy, her heart open and vulnerable. It was too much. She was begging for Sam to take the decision out of her hands again.

"Well..." Sam seemed to pick up on her thoughts and gave her a soft, understanding smile, "Why don't you just leave it alone for now? Focus on enjoying your time with him. We still have almost a week until he has to go. There's no rush. You can make up your mind later." She fluttered her hand to Luna's cheek and grazed her thumb lightly over her lips. "Listen to your heart but don't let it boss you around." There was a stretch of silence. "You know I'd never let you get hurt, right babe?" She finally asked, and after only a moment's hesitation, Luna nodded. The brunette leaned over and wrapped her arms around her girlfriend's waist, laying her face against the crook of Sam's neck like a lost, miserable child. She tried not to laugh and gave the top of her head a gentle kiss.

Later that night, after making love, Luna rested in her partner's embrace and drifted on tides of warm, fuzzy feeling. She decided she would think about the Lincoln situation later, just like Sam said. She gave a long, relaxed sigh. All she had to do was do what Sam said...

She closed her eyes, and in only moments she was asleep.

Both women lay there, in the dark and the easy silence. As Sam at last felt her girlfriend drift off, she grinned.

Deviously.


	11. How to Plan A Party

Sam Sharpe was a party-planning expert...if she did say so herself. She had many, many talents (in addition to her stunning natural good looks) and getting down was one of them. Well, two of them, since there's more than one way to get down. She excelled at both. Case in point: Lincoln's going away shindig. When she first came up with the idea, she tried to think of how she should engineer things to work best with her plan. Sam's first thought was to keep it low-key: just her, the Loud siblings, good music and some booze. A nice, chill evening where they could get cozy and intimate together as a threesome (heh)...What could be better, right? But the more she considered it, the more she started to sense keeping things so restrained might not be the best idea. Lincoln was sure to get his guard up if she just knocked on his door with nothing but a six pack of beer, his sister and a smile. No. It seemed to her the thing to do would be to throw the kind of bash that'd give the boy no choice but to loosen up and get into the swing of things, the kind of party where turning down a drink and a dance would be just, well, rude. And with that in mind, her initial idea soon ballooned into something bigger and better over the course of the afternoon. She quickly invited a dozen people who knew how to par-tay, and managed to convince her boss to give her an advance on next week's pay so she could supply it properly with alcohol, pizza, snacks, and other sundries.

Sundries like weed.

To be sure, Sam was absolutely against hard drug use, like coke, crack, PCP, and politics, but it should come as little surprise that she was also far from some tight-assed square. A little bud never hurt anyone...in moderation, of course. She didn't partake very often, but she occasionally bought a dime bag from a guy she knew, mainly to help her and Luna relax. Hey, the stresses and rigors of life can be a little overwhelming at times, and everyone can use a little relief. The last time had bought some was right before Christmas and she wasn't sure whether or not her guy would have any on the shelf, but thankfully, he did, and since Sam was cool (or so he told her, and who was she to disagree?), he gave her an eighth on the cheap.

While Luna and Lincoln were both at work, she caught the bus to the Iron City Plaza and spent an hour threading her way through Party City, picking up cups, napkins, and even a stack of paper party hats because, fuck it, why not?

The more she thought about tonight the more excited she became. Next the blonde hit the liquor store at the end of the breezeway. The cashier, a big Sikh guy in a turban, watched her with the narrow-eyed suspicion of a man accustomed to being stolen from, and Arabic music filtered from unseen speakers. She wondered what the lyrics were. It could be anything from a guy pining for his lost love to a call to war against white infidels with a blue streak in their hair. Your godless perversion has offended me, American witch. I know what you're up to.

She selected a bottle of Ronrico rum and a bottle of Kahlua. She freaking loved Kahlua. She could drink a whole bottle by herself...which made it dangerous stuff. Some alcohol tastes so good that you forget it's alcohol, leading you to accidentally drink waaaay too much. She knew that from personal experience. She'd done it many, many, many times and it always ended with her either bent over the toilet and ralphing her soul out or getting really frisky. She thought she'd mastered the ratio of keeping the needle just on that bubble of loose-limbed and ready to score though, and now a certain white haired boy stood to reap the benefits from her long experience.

On her way out the door, she grabbed a case of Smirnoff and a pack of condoms. There were twelve in the former and six in the latter. Would six be enough? She had, ahem, a big night planned.

Balancing all the stuff in her arms, she rode the bus home. At the apartment, she sat it all on the kitchen table, stepped back, and parked her hands on her hips. Let's see, anything else? Booze? Check. Weed? Check. Cups that would undoubtedly wind up lined shoulder to shoulder on every conceivable surface like the ranks of an invading army? You bet'cha.

Hmm. As far as partystarters went, that was pretty much it. Now time for those all important party-sustainers: Snacks. You can't boogie down on an empty stomach, can you? No party's fun when you're starving to death and there's nothing to eat but left over stems and seeds from the bud bag. That necessitated another trip to the store; lucky for her, there was a place on the corner that sold everything she'd need.

She fetched a cloth bag from the pantry and left again. The hall was too hot and poorly lit; one of the overhead lights burned out the previous week and the super hadn't gotten around to fixing it yet. In his defense, he took his sweet time with everything. Dude was so backed up with repairs that he was still working on orders from 1978. Hey, man, my shag carpet's harshin' my mellow. Can you boogie on down and groovy-far out-peace, love, chicken grease. She was certain that people talked that way in the seventies and nothing could convince her otherwise.

Outside, the night was warm and scented with the sweet aromas of the city: rotting garbage, exhaust fumes, bitterness, and motor oil. A group of Hispanic guys stood one the corner and talked in rapid fire Spanish - maybe they were plotting a million dollar heist, or maybe they were plotting to go get a beer down at El Charo's. With language barriers, who knew? She preferred to think it was a heist, though. Indulging in flights of fancy like that in her mundane life was the best way she knew how to keep her mind alive amidst the every-day drudgery of Detroit.

The store was two blocks up on another corner - because little ghetto-marts are always on a corner. The proprietor, another Sikh, leaned against the counter and scrolled through his phone. He had a novel management style, that was to say, total disinterest in anything happening around him, which led Sam to suspect the whole store was a money laundering operation. He was young, hip, and bald, and sometimes he gave her stuff for free. Then there were times he overcharged the Hell out of her. She couldn't prove it and she never made a fuss, but come on, a bag of beef jerky, a Monster, and a Dutch Master (for blunt rolling purposes) shouldn't cost twenty-five bucks.

The chips were along the far wall between the ATM and a metal shelf crammed with cleaning products. She stood in front of them and tapped her chin. Hmm. What should she get? Funyons were good, but gave you stink breath. Lay's Classic were always a crowd pleaser, but a little bland, if you asked her. Fritos were yumtastic when paired with bean dip. Pretzels...well, they were a little meh too but she had a soft spot for them anyway. Cheese Nips were great too.

To be on the safe side, she grabbed a box of Cheese Nips, a bag of pretzels, a party sized bag of Lay's, two bags of Wavy Lay's, a bag of Fritos, bean dip, French onion dip, salsa, and a couple boxes of snack cakes. At the register, she paid, stuffed it all into her bag, and hefted it out the door, her muscles straining. Her burden was a lot heavier than she thought it would be and by the time she staggered through her front door fifteen minutes later, her back ached and her arms quivered with exhaustion.

Maybe she should start hitting the gym.

She put everything away, slipped out of her jacket, and hung it on one of the chairs. Kicking out of her shoes, San hit the head to pee, then when she at last got to the living room, the girl gladly collapsed onto the sofa with a weary sigh and propper her socked feet onto the coffee table, clenching her toes and giving a mewl of satisfaction when they cracked. Did she have absolutely everything she needed, she wondered? Sam ran through her mental checklist one final time and nodded to herself. Yep, all present and accounted for. Tomorrow was going to be a good night.

A sinful simper kissed her lips and she tossed her bangs out of her face. It had been a loooong week but it was all about to finally pay off. Like...do you know how hard it is being a good girl when you really, really, really want to be bad? Extremely hard. Astronomically hard. She couldn't count the number of times she almost gave in and pounced Lincoln and she really couldn't count all the times she nearly succumbed to the urge to be flirty, suggestive, or otherwise naughty. Just the other day, he and Luna were talking about music. I like west coast style, Luna said. I prefer east coast style, Lincoln replied.

I like doggystyle, Sam almost blurted; the words came so close to spilling out they clicked against her teeth and she quickly swallowed them down like a warm, salty wad of…

...snot. Wad of snot.

That was all in the past, though. In just a few short hours, her dastardly plot would reach its thrilling conclusion, and she would at last claim the prize she had worked so long and hard for. She would watch as Lincoln mated his sister like an animal, then she would take Luna's place and let him pound her into oblivion. She closed her eyes and conjured a picture of the scene. Lincoln was on top of Luna and rutting into her, and her legs were crossed over his clenching little butt in a shaky X. They were too far gone in their primal lust to realize they were fucking their own sibling; their minds were gone, their bodies in control. Hot, wet, trembling, their passions rising, cresting, Luna hugging him tight, the boy quivering.

At the last second, he yanked out and Sam caught a flash of his dick: Fever-red and glistening with its sister's natural fluids, it pulsed...then thick, white sperm shot from the tip and splattered Luna's bare stomach. Luna thrust her hips, tossed her head from side to side, and gripped the pillow in her hands. Lincoln shot another round onto her perky tits, and Sam bit her lower lip and clamped her legs closed against the sudden pressure swelling in her loins.

Oooh, that was hot.

So, hot, in fact, that she kind of wanted to jill off to it. She glanced at her phone and scrunched her lips. Lincoln would be here any minute and Luna probably wouldn't be far behind. She supposed she could squeeze one out really quick, but an image that delicious deserved a long, in-depth session, to be relished and explored from head to toe.

With a regretful, frustrated sigh, she instead snatched the remote and turned the TV on to try to cool herself down. She attempted and failed to lose herself in an episode of Artworld, the CBS reality show where ten artists vie for the chance to win ten thousand dollars and a contract with a talent agency. She and Luna were really into it when it first started, but their favorite contestant revealed himself to be a slimy, backstabbing asshole and they kind of fell off after that. Her mind wandered back to her girlfriend and her little brother, and her panties dampened. She crossed her arms and shifted her weight; she rolled her neck and cracked her knuckles. Anything to distract her from the thoughts straining to take shape in her head.

Finally, finding no respite, she jumped to her feet and went into the kitchen. Might as well make herself useful and get dinner started. She rooted through the cabinets like a hungry raccoon through someone's trash (yummy, unshredded bank statements). There wasn't much in the pantry, though the peppered country gravy mix did catch her eye. On a hunch, she dove into the freezer and moved packages of pork and chicken around until she found a pack of sausage patties in the very back. She took it out and flipped it over to read the directions. Can you thaw these things in the microwave?

Yep. Good.

She ripped the plastic wrap off, separated each patty with a fork, and put them onto a plate. She popped it into the microwave, hit DEFROST, and scrolled through her phone while she waited. Her mom posted a bunch of pictures of her and her boyfriend at an Iron Phil concert (if you looked really hard in the background of one, you could see the lead singer, the seventy year old Ronald Hagen, on stage with a cane in one hand and an IV drip in the other). A guy she went to school with posted a video supposedly proving that the Illuminati existed and were secretly microchipping newborn babies as a means of population control. A woman she and Luna used to hang with opined that everyone south of the Mason-Dixon Line was an utter racist and deserving of death (okay, wow, gonna react with an angry face 'cuz that's kinda fucked). Oh, there was a fresh crop of cat videos from her metube subs! Sweet!

When the sausage patties were unfrozen, she took the plate out and cut them into tiny pieces, then made the gravy mix. She combined it in a pot with milk and stirred it up. By the time Luna came through the door, it was bubbling like a witch's cauldron, and the smell hung thick in the air. The brunette joined her in the kitchen, slumped against the counter, and threw her head back with a sigh.

"You alright?" Sam asked. She jammed bread into the toaster and grabbed three plates from the drying rack. She wished they had buttermilk biscuits but beggars can't be choosers.

Luna yawned. "Long day," she said. She crossed her arms and cast a longing look at the door, looking so much like a lost little puppy dog that Sam's heart twinged in sympathy. They hadn't talked about her feelings for Lincoln in days, but they were still there and as his scheduled day of departure approached, her girlfriend's mood started to tank. It was nothing showy. She didn't mope or weep or drag herself around like a bipolar on the low end of the manic depressive cycle. Luna hated to lay her burdens on anybody. Instead it was a subtle, but marked, change that only someone who had spent six years becoming intimately familiar with her could notice. If Sam looked into her eyes, she would catch the occasional glimpse of worry tinged sadness. A palatable tension rolled from her in sickening waves, and every time her brother entered the room, she favored him with a quick, blink-and-you'll-miss it hangdog expression.

She didn't want him to go.

Well, neither did Sam.

They couldn't keep him from going back to school - and shouldn't, since he needed that degree - but they could make tomorrow night the most special of their lives.

And they would.

Oh, they would.

"You want a foot rub?" Sam asked, trying to cheer her up.

Luna considered it, but shook her head. "Nah, I'm just gonna take a bath..."

"Alright," she said, "well, dinner's almost ready, so you might wanna eat first."

"Yeah," Luna sighed. She pushed away from the counter and trudged into the living room. Sam watched her go with a little frown, then turned her attention back to the food. Luna was really broken up about this, and if Sam knew her as well as she thought she did, she was also broken up by her inability to suck it up and make her move. Luckily for her, she had an awesome girlfriend who loved her and wanted her to be happy...and who also happened to have a newly-discovered incest kink.

The brunette stretched out on the couch, picked up the remote, and changed the channel. In the kitchen, Sam took the toast out of the toaster, sat it on one of the plates, and shoved more in. A few minutes later, just as she was spooning gravy onto the toast, the door opened and closed. Her heart jumped into her throat and her stomach knotted in what had become almost a Pavlovian response. Lincoln's here!

Across the way, Luna sat quickly up like a girl caught red handed doing something wrong. The glumness drained from her face and the corners of her mouth curled up in a happy smile that Sam found breathtaking despite its subtlety. "Hey, bro," she greeted. The chipper inflection in her voice made her feelings obvious, but poor Linc was none the wiser. He just answered his sister with a tired, friendly smile of his own, one which the blonde found equally beautiful. It was guileless and pure.

It really was his innocence which was one of his most alluring traits, Sam reflected as she finished making their plates. Most of the other guys, heck, most of the PEOPLE Sam had met throughout her life were users, or at the very least wanted something. Some were players, others were genuinely nice but knew what they were after. Lincoln wasn't like that. His kindness and devotion to the people he cared about was authentic. The boy was fumbling, awkward, and reminded her of a little bunny rabbit slipping on ice. So pure. So inexperienced. So virginal. She'd never considered herself particularly aggressive when it came to romance, or even the type to chase after a guy, really, but with Lincoln it was different. The thought of her and Luna, two experienced, sexual vixens, working together to seduce the sweet ingénue, popping his cherry and ruining him for all other women, was knee-knockingly hot. She wondered if this was how boys felt when they were on the prowl.

Did that make her a cougar?

Cougars are usually older women who pounce and maul younger men...much, much younger men...but the spirit was the same, right?

Speaking of food, dinner was ready and here she was staring into space and woolgathering again while the siblings were right there. Bad Sam.

Lincoln dropped onto the sofa and tossed his head back much the way Luna had and the blonde fought to keep from laughing. Did they realize how alike they were sometimes? They didn't look much alike (though if you squinted, you could see the resemblance) but their mannerisms were mirror reflections of each other. Then again, she supposed the two did spend a lot of time around one another in their formative years, more time than they spent with any of their other sisters from what Luna had told her. It made sense that they'd adopt similar characteristics. In fact, over the past six years, she'd picked up some things from Luna and Luna had picked up some things from her. It was like cultural cross-pollination or something. The thought of Lincoln getting some of her habits from Luna kind of excited her, it would be almost like she was their sister too.

When she had that thought her navel clenched so hard it made her dizzy. The blonde wondered if she could talk her girlfriend into doing a little roleplaying tonight...

Picking up two plates, she carried them into the living room, handing one to Lincoln and the other to her girlfriend. "Hey, Linc," she said, "good day at work?"

His smile got tighter on his face, tight enough for his eyes to squint. He was obviously trying very hard not to bitch.

"I'll take that as a no," Sam laughed.

She went back for her plate and sat between Luna and the arm of the couch. "Is it good?" she asked.

Luna nodded. "Yeah, it is. Thank you."

"You're welcome." Sam reached out and poked Luna's stomach. "I gots to feed my girl. Otherwise she'll turn into skin and bones."

Luna swatted her hand away. "Get off of me," she complained playfully.

'You're starting to get a little pudgy there," the blonde said as she picked up her fork, "maybe I should cut back on feeding you."

"Look who's talking," Luna shot back, "you got a bit of a spare tire going on."

No, she didn't, but neither did Luna.

"I'm storing it up for the winter," Sam said.

Luna snorted. "Winter's not for a long time, honey."

Sam shrugged. "I like to get an early start."

"I can tell, porky."

That made Sam laugh. "Me? Porky? You're at least three-fifty these days, you really have no room to talk."

"You're the fattest one here though," Luna said and took a bite.

"Whatever you say, hambone," Sam said. She held her plate out to Luna. "You want mine too, tubby?"

Luna turned away. "Stop trying to steal my food, dude, you need to lose weight, not gain it."

Lincoln stared at the TV, completely oblivious to Sam and Luna's playful banter. It looked like he was seriously exhausted; his boss must have really put him through the wringer or he'd suffered through a bad string of entitled customers. Boy, Sam had been there...She studied his pouting face in profile and a twang went through her center when the notion occurred to her that he might not have the energy to fight her off at the moment. Honestly, couldn't they just speed things up and get it on right now? Surely he wouldn't object to her getting on her knees and sucking him a little. He'd probably even reward her with a mouthful of appreciation.

No. Of course, she couldn't do that. She wanted to, but Luna wasn't quite there yet. See, back when everything had all started, she thought her Lunatic only needed a gentle little love-nudge to make everything happen. In actuality, she needed a big ol' shove. Lucky for Luna, that was fine too. Sam was willing to do whatever it took to get her girlfriend to where she knew she needed to be. That's how much she loved her.

Really, Sam deserved a medal for all the hard work she was doing here. Not only was she orchestrating the best night of Lincoln and Luna's lives, she was dutifully keeping her hands, mouth, tongue, and pussy to herself, which was no easy feat with how desperately, breathtakingly horny this entire forbidden love situation had made her and KEPT her. Any other woman would have done Lincoln behind Luna's back and justified it to herself. You snooze, you lose, sister. Sam wasn't like that. She was loyal and loving.

Goddamnit. Luna owed her one. A big one.

One attached to her brother -

She cut that thought off before she accidentally turned herself on again. Easy there now, steady. There'll be more than enough of Lincoln to go around soon enough. She just had to wait twenty-four more hours. They were fast approaching the finish line, no need to fuck things up so late in the game.

Ugh, but do twenty-four hours drag oooooon when you're anticipating something amazing! She was like a kid the night before Christmas, tossing and turning in bed with excitement, trying to go to sleep just so the time would pass by quicker. Her present (which in her mind looked an awful lot like a bed with three naked, sweaty people in it) might as well be on the other side of forever, and every minute leading up to it was an eternity unto itself. Great things come to those who wait, she reminded herself, and what was coming was really special, so that was some consolation. Her grandmother Sharpe was a good Christian woman who never missed church and read her Bible every night (how'd Sam spring from that?) and she used to talk about God testing people. The Big Guy likes to poke around and see what you're made of from time to time, so he'll make you run a gauntlet. Like Job. Sam was just like Job, she decided, trying to ignore the voice at the back of her head assuring her she was going to Hell for drawing a comparison between his unflinching belief in God and her depraved desire to watch her girlfriend fuck her brother.

Anyway, the whole point of the Job parable is how adversity builds character. Or something. This was like a test, because she was impatient and being forced to wait for something was literally hell to her. If she stayed faithful like Job did, she'd be rewarded with the spectacle of the two beautiful, wonderful siblings she adored making sweet, incestuous love to one another, and that was well worth the wait.

Well worth it.

After dinner, Luna hit the shower. Lincoln, obviously drained though he was, didn't fail to compliment her for how delicious dinner had been, apologize for how quiet he'd been that evening ('Long day,' he'd explained, as though she hadn't already guessed) and then dutifully offer to wash the dishes. Gosh, how had Rita managed to raise such a gentleman? "Sure," she said and laced her hands behind her head. "Thanks, Linc."

He carried his and Sam's plates into the kitchen and sat them in the sink. He plugged the drain, turned the water on, and squirted in a measure of soap. Sam leaned against the arm of the couch and watched his cute little butt as he worked, her teeth brushing her lower lip and her head nodding in unconscious appreciation. There's something incredibly sexy about a man doing housework. She would never tell Luna this, but she used to think Lynn Sr. was kind of hot when he'd wash dishes and cook dinner in that frilly pink apron of his. Not that she wanted to do him or anything, God no, but he commanded her attention and made her feel a little horny. To be fair, at sixteen, everything made her horny. There was this song from, like, the seventies that summed teenage Sam up perfectly.

_Women turn me on_

_Music turns me on_

_Tacos turn me on_

_Almost everything turns me on_

What could she say? Sam was a naturally sexual person. When she and Luna first got together, they had sooo much sex. They'd get under the covers and play with each other's bodies until they were trembling and on the edge, and then out would come Sam's vibrator. If they hung out for an afternoon, you can bet your sweet behind they spent at least half of it seeing who could make the other cum the most. Seriously, puberty was not gentle to the blonde. She'd get so bothered and hot in class sometimes that she ended up flushed and wet and counting down the minutes until she could see Luna again.

Kind of like she was now. The edge wasn't quite as bad, but she did recently flick her bean in a public bathroom, something she hadn't done since she was fifteen. Yes, she did that very often when she was a kid. Hey, when nature calls, you answer.

She caressed Lincoln's butt with her eyes and licked her chops like a hungry bitch crouched under the table and begging for scraps. Lemme clap those cheeks, boy. How would he react if she went in there and grabbed it? Just full throttle, both hands; maybe even a little neck kiss to seal the deal. Hey, Linc, wanna fool around? She envisioned him going rigid like a guy in a scary movie at the sound of a ghostly moan. He'd probably wiggle, squirm, and try to get away, but she'd be too into it to stop there. She'd spin him around, shove him against the sink, and -

Damn it, there was her leash again, yanking her back before she could claim her prize. The leash being Luna and the prize being Lincoln's hot virgin bod. In the beginning, Sam really wanted to watch two siblings go out of their mind with horniness and have dirty, shameful sex with each other. She still did - a lot - but her hormones were kickin' like buffalo chicken and if she didn't want Luna to have him first (and whether this was out of sincere love and respect for her girlfriend's wishes or simply her own kinky desires, she was having trouble deciding now), she'd have jumped his bones five times already.

But on the flip side, she wouldn't get to watch his big sis deflowered.

This was a very delicate matter, you know. It had to be done just right, in the right order. A brother and sister could only have sex together with Sam gleefully watching and jilling off once, after all.

Tomorrow, she reminded herself with a clench of her jaw. Tomorrow her plans would come to fruition and she would finally have what she wanted.

No...

What she needed.

She. Couldn't. Wait.


	12. Before the Party

**Sorry for the long wait. Hopefully the last couple chapters will follow shortly. **

**I would like to give a special shoutout to DoctorYnot for his contributions to these final chapters. I greatly enjoyed working with you, Doc.**

On the day of Lincoln's big going away bash, Sam woke to the buzz of her phone vibrating against the nightstand. She rolled onto her side, peeled her gummy eyelids open, and squinted at the clock. 6:45. Murky light tinged the room a dreary shade of gray and beads of water streaked the sliver of window pane not covered by the curtain.

It was Sam's experience that someone calling you early on a Saturday morning was never a good thing. It meant SOMETHING BAD had happened, like a relative dying or your bodacious girlfriend was breaking up with you. It couldn't be the latter: Luna was curled up next to her snoring for all she was worth. She trusted Luna to not dump her, and if she _did _dump her, she trusted her to at least do it face to face. You have a very limited window where you can leave someone via text or email, and they passed that threshold _long _ago.

The mist cleared from Sam's head and she sat up. As she grabbed her phone and blinked down at the too bright, too fuzzy screen, she rubbed the ache out of her eyes with the back of her wrist. There are a thousand little chances every day to see the glass as either half empty or half full, and this was one of them. She could either be glad it wasn't Mom calling to say that Dad slipped in the shower and got the shampoo bottle wedged in his butt (_they're giving him the last rights, you better hurry_) or she could be bummed that it was her boss. There is only one reason for your boss to call you on your day off.

For a moment the blonde considered ignoring it, but finally caved and swiped her thumb across the screen. She and Luna needed the money, and if she pretended to miss this call, she'd spend the rest of the week kicking herself over it. Extra hours didn't exactly drop into her lap often so she had to get while the getting was good.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Sam," her boss said, "I'm sorry for calling you like this, but do you think you could cover Gloria's shift?"

Gloria, like Jeff, enjoyed ditching work. Not as often, but enough that it was an established pattern. What is it with people? Like...do you _not _want to make money? Oh well, more for her. "Sure, I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Thank you so much."

"No problem."

She hung up and dropped her phone onto the nightstand. The girl stretched, gave a big yawn, and smacked her lips together. Gloria's shift ended at three, which gave her plenty of time to get back before Lincoln's party kicked off. Plus, when she covered someone's shift on the weekend, the boss usually paid her in cash, so maybe she could stop by the store and pick up a few last minute things, like more booze. She'd been beating herself up for not getting more. There were going to be a dozen people there and she was pretty sure she didn't grab enough.

Luna snorted in her sleep, and Sam smiled. _That's my little piglet. _Luna was usually devilishly hot, but when she was asleep, she looked like an innocent little angel who had absolutely no kinks or dirty thoughts whatsoever. The blonde chuckled to herself; talk about looks being deceiving. Her girlfriend was a tee-_total_ freak.

Leaning over, Sam brushed her hair out of her face and planted a soft, delicate kiss on Luna's temple. "Hey," she whispered.

Muttering something that sounded like _hold on, _she winced and began to stir. "Looooo-naaa," Sam insisted softly and grazed her nails over the girl's scalp affectionately. "Wake up, I got something to tell you."

The dozing rocker at last pried one bleary eye open and fixed it dazedly on Sam. "Hi," Sam brightened, "Good morning."

"What time is it?" Luna asked in a halting murmur.

"Almost seven," Sam answered. "I'm going to work."

Luna yawned. "Again?"

"Gotta make that money, honey," she explained. Sam bent down, kissed Luna's forehead, and got to her feet. "I'll be home by, like, four."

"'Kay," Luna said thickly. Her eyes were closed again and she was already on her way back to dreamland. Lucky bitch...

In the bathroom, Sam used the toilet, kicked out of her panties, and whipped her shirt off. The cool air raked her naked flesh with goosebumps and her nipples stiffened. The young woman looked at herself in the mirror, put her hands on her hips, and turned from side to side, examining every mole and freckle with an uncharacteristically critical eye. She wasn't conceited, but she thought she looked good. The important question was: Would _Lincoln _think she looked good? She assumed he would, but then there _was_ that saying about ass-u-me'ing things. He'd gotten undeniably flustered when she teased him last week, sure, but...she was still a little nervous, honestly. She couldn't say _why_, only that she was. It was actually a bit of a nostalgic feeling if she was to tell the truth, one she hadn't experienced in quite some time; she felt, ahem, almost like a shy young schoolgirl again, one who'd yet to show (and share) her body with anyone. The thoughts racing through her head were the same that battered her before she slept with Luna the first time: What if she was stinky, too hairy, not thin enough, too thin, or just plain old...unappealing?

As a woman in her early twenties who had been in a committed, long term relationship for six years, she was usually confident in herself, but this was different. Why exactly, she couldn't quite say. She knew that rationally it shouldn't be, but the nearer the moment drew closer the more she found it absolutely was, and suspense was beginning to swell like lead in her stomach. Sam drew a heavy sigh, turned away from the mirror, and got into the shower. She let the water relax her bunched muscles, then lathered her loofah with soap. The blonde rubbed her breasts with it first, then the junction of her thighs, and finally her butt. She'd have to shower again before the big event just to make sure she smelled extra good; Sam knew she was being neurotic, but didn't care. The girl had a feeling she'd be holding on to the memory of what happened tonight for a very long time, and she wanted every last little thing to be perfect, down to her scent. She took a deep whiff of the lavender bar of soap she was scrubbing herself with and sighed happily; she used to think it was a pointless expense, but she was suddenly thankful her girlfriend was always so fastidious about making sure they got the fancy, costlier brand instead of the generic kind.

Cutting the spray, she opened the curtain, fetched the towel from the rack over the toilet, and dried off. Back in the bedroom, Luna was curled up in her girlfriend's spot and hugging her pillow to her chest. The girl was an epic bed hog and the moment Sam got up, she would come out of a dead sleep just long enough to roll over and take her place.

The blonde threw on a pair of jeans and a pale orange polo shirt (which she didn't remember buying, but decided looked good on her); she liked to dress nice for work. Every once in a while, anyway. It showed that she took her job seriously. Of course, coming in on her day off to cover someone's shift showed that plenty. She could dress as a clown and still display more dedication than Jeff and Gloria. _Beep, beep, here I am_. In any case, the real clowns were the ones who work harder and longer for free with the expectation of being recognized and appreciated. Ha! As if. Sam used to be like that but she eventually grew up and smelled the coffee. Employers don't operate that way. You can be the most reliable guy they have and they'll _still _treat you like a jerk. Scoring brownie points with your boss is a fool's errand and Mama Sharpe didn't raise no fools.

After pulling on her shoes and grabbing her umbrella from its spot between the wall and the dresser, she kissed Luna on the forehead and slipped out of the room.

The sight that met her when she did was Lincoln halfway through sitting up on the couch, his legs crossed and one arm draped over its back. His pillow was on one side of him and his blanket was wadded up on the other. When Sam appeared he looked at her groggily before nodding in acknowledgement.

She'd been kind of hoping to catch him half-dressed or even naked, splayed out on her couch like a dish waiting to be devoured, but unfortunately for her, the young man had been thoughtful enough to his hosts to throw on a tank top and a pair of basketball shorts to sleep in instead of letting it all hang out like Sam secretly would have preferred.

Considerate little jerk...

"Morning, Linc," she greeted him breezily. She walked into the kitchen, and set a cup of instant coffee. "Ready for your party tonight?"

He smiled weakly at her, rubbing his eye with the back of his hand when a particularly obnoxious shaft of light peeked over the living room window and into his cornea. "Definitely. I can't wait."

Frankly, from his tone of voice it kind of sounded like he _could_.

She shook off his half-slurred reply. In his defense, she reasoned, it _was_ seven in the morning. It was hard to be animated about _anything _at that hour.

"It's gonna be a lot of fun," Sam promised him. "Heck, I'll even introduce you to some of my cute scene friends. I'm sure they'll just _love _you." A suggestive hilt crept into her voice and the corners of her mouth turned up in a wicked, Cheshire grin.

Lincoln perked up, immediately becoming wary, as though from the dangerous purr in Sam's voice his body instinctively knew that its day had begun. She watched as a cute blush suddenly spread across the bridge of the boy's nose and bit her bottom lip. She could actually _feel_ her nostrils flare in anticipation, like a lioness noticing a nearby gazelle's limp. She idly wondered if, subconsciously at least, Lincoln knew what he was doing to her being so gee-golly-shucks all the time.

"That sounds...great," he chirped, his voice tense and uncomfortable.

"Who knows," she mused, pouring herself a mug of coffee after the machine dinged it was done. She quickly guzzled it down before perching next to him on the arm of the couch, "You might even get laid~" Lincoln choked on nothing and Sam threw her head back and laughed. "They _love_ the shy boy routine," she teased. "Seriously, if you keep acting like this they might just drag you off to bed kicking and screaming."

Lincoln didn't seem to know what to make of her promise/threat. He fidgeted with his hands, unable to meet the blonde's eye. "Um...yeah, I...I got that charm." He flashed Sam a cautious, anxious smile, and it was all she could do to keep from taking his face in her hands and forcing her tongue down the loveable little goof's throat. Her restraint and patience had been badly depleted the last week.

"You do," she agreed seriously, "You're also cute. There's no way you're going to come out of this party still a virgin."

Lincoln's face blazed, and satisfied that she had at that point thoroughly scandalized him, Sam got up and padded into the towards the front door, making darn sure her butt wiggled when she did.

She wasn't lying when she said he wasn't going to be a virgin after tonight.

Only, she had no intention of letting one of her friends be the one to do the honors. Oh no. That privilege was going to go to someone that'd been waiting for it much, much longer. His whole life, as a matter of fact.

"W-wait, Sam..." Lincoln suddenly called out to her, his voice soft and hesitant at first but then a little louder, and the blonde paused. She turned to look at him over her shoulder and quirked a brow, as if daring him to defy her. "Is that...?" He began.

"Yessss?" She let the last 's' drag, and turned around to face the boy.

"Is that...?" He leaned forward, narrowing his eyes.

"'Is that' what, Lincoln?" She took a step closer to him and was suddenly ravenously excited when, for the first time, he didn't back away. He met her gaze evenly. There was a sudden spark of electricity in the air, an expectation in it, the same pressure one might feel watching a lit fuse burning towards a stack of dynamite. Had he finally had enough, she wondered giddily?

Screw all her plans, Sam decided. If Lincoln wanted to make his move now, that was fine too. This was it, the moment she'd been waiting for. The blonde practically _bristled _with anticipation as the boy finally opened his mouth to speak.

"Is that...my shirt?" He asked.

At first she didn't react, wondering if she'd misheard him. Neither of the two, in fact, said anything for a long while. They were trapped in the cloying akwardness like two bugs in amber. At last Sam looked down and realized that the snappy orange polo shirt she'd picked out of the pile of clean laundry that morning to wear did, indeed, belong to her girlfriend's little brother.

"SorryLincolngottagoI'mlateforwork!" The blonde suddenly declared, promptly fleeing her own apartment under the boy's baffled, helpless stare.

* * *

Luna Loud sat up in bed for a long time that Saturday morning before reluctantly departing the warm, safe burrow of covers she'd made for herself.

A steady rain fell from the leaden sky and if she listened closely, she could hear it hissing in the gutters below. It was a pleasant sound that soothed her frayed nerves, but not enough to kill the bubbling disquiet in the pit of her stomach. The young woman hugged her legs to her chest, rested her cheek on her knee, and took a deep breath, but it did little to relieve the dark pressure weighing her down. Tomorrow Lincoln was going back to school and she didn't know when she would see him again. That in and of itself bothered her but worse was the sense that she had missed her one and only opportunity to tell him how she truly felt. Once he walked out the door, she didn't feel she would ever be able to come as close as she did again.

Luna had been pumping herself up for a week, even after she chickened out that day they went to the museum, but no matter how many pep talks she gave herself, she just couldn't do it. Maybe she was overthinking things, maybe she was being melodramatic, but the thought of losing Lincoln simply frightened her too much. If she told him and it backfired, their relationship would never recover. He'd become distant for sure and she couldn't handle that. Even if he didn't and they managed to limp past it, the knowledge of her unsisterly love for him would hang between them forever like a dark cloud. She would be heartbroken, hurt, and humiliated, and she didn't know if she would even be able to face him again. She thought about what a failed confession could do, imagined the way he might flinch away from her if she tried to greet him with a hug at some family reunion afterwards, trying to hide how disgusted he made her because her brother was a good guy and wouldn't want to hurt her feelings, and the idea very nearly made her scream. She just couldn't risk it.

Since the other day, she had been repeating _it's for the best _like a holy incantation, but was it really? She could feel her chance slipping away and once it was gone, her heart would harden and it would never thaw enough to allow her to try again. Sam had worked hard to get her to be honest with herself, then practically dragged her by force all the way to where she needed to be emotionally to tell Lincoln the truth. Throughout the revelation of Luna's feelings and everything that came afterwards she'd been understanding, encouraging, _amazing_. The girl was more than Luna deserved and she knew it. Her significant other had patiently and lovingly guided her right to the precipice. All she had to do was grit her teeth and take that one last step by herself...

But she couldn't.

Luna had desired her brother as more than a sister since she was twelve years old, maybe longer, and she had yearned the entire time to have him as she did in her dreams. She met Sam, fell earnestly in love, and buried those thoughts, but they had always been with her, lurking just below the surface, like frigid waters beneath a thin sheen of ice. All that they needed to break through was a stray look at the wrong moment, a chipped-toothed smile when she was unprepared for it...or her girlfriend deliberately prodding the wound in her heart. She had blocked out her feelings for Lincoln but Sam carelessly and purposefully dredged them all back up to the surface and now they flowed openly through her, made even more intense by the fact she could no longer even try to deny they were real. A small flame of resentment burned in her heart, despite everything her girlfriend had done for her. Or maybe because of it. In a lot of ways her entire emotional life had been uprooted from a delusion she'd carefully and painstakingly created for herself. If ever she'd needed any convincing she was in love with Lincoln, Sam had _convinced _her. She wanted him bad.

Once, long ago, the fact that she was attracted to her own brother turned her stomach, but not anymore. She didn't care how much of her blood he shared or whether or not they sprang from the same family line. She cared only that he was Lincoln - cute, loyal, kind, and always there for her when she needed him. Even in the depths of her love sickness, she wouldn't say that he was objectively perfect, but he was perfect for _her_. Her brother was everything she wanted. She loved her girlfriend and felt more than blessed for the life they had together, but the boy was a piece of her heart. She could neither explain it nor account for it. He made her feel whole and complete in a way that nothing else did or could. She couldn't jeopardize what they had, but she wasn't sure she could keep on living a charade either, and so she was paralyzed, unable to let her feelings go but equally helpless to act on them. Could she pretend for the rest of her life that she didn't love everything about him? Could she be a sister to Lincoln...and only a sister?

Those thoughts and more harangued her as she sat in the dusky gloom of a rainy Saturday morning. Her little brother was awake and moving around in the living room, and with every creaking floorboard, her heart sputtered like a dying carburetor in a bum car. She would have to go out there at some point, right? And then what? Look him in his face and pretend like everything was okay? Act like she _didn't _want to wrap her arms around him tight and never let him go?

She didn't have a choice. Luna certainly couldn't open her heart to him, tell him how she actually felt. She would swallow hard, force a smile, and wish things were different, but she wouldn't tell him.

...Would she?

That thought struck her like a bullet from the void, and an electric tingle - part fright and part exhilaration - spread through her.

She could, physically. All she had to do was say the words. It wasn't like she was trying to grow wings and fly or turn lead into gold. It wasn't magic. All she had to do was look Lincoln in the eye and speak, let the truth slip past her lips before her worries caught up to the impulse and stopped her. It was easy, in its own way. Spring into the living room, outrunning her anxiety, and blurt it all out. Rip it off like band-aid. You can do whatever you want if you don't think about the consequences.

She wouldn't, of course.

But she _could_...

Luna groaned and brought her hands up to her head, fingers curling tight in her hair. Within her, desire battled fear for supremacy within her for the millionth time that week, sending her stomach roiling, as though the girl was being thrown around on the deck of a storm-battered ship. At last, fear, once again, won out. The plain fact of it was that he was simply too important to her to risk losing. Pining for her brother from afar would be hard - especially since she would see him often - but that was a small price to pay to keep their relationship intact. It wasn't like it was anything new. Luna had been doing it all her life. She could just do it some more.

How long could she keep it inside, though? It had taken enormous effort and, more importantly, time, for her to be able to force those feelings down until they cooled to the point where they would only rarely make her cry, she lied to herself back then, 'for no reason'. She wasn't sure if she could do it again. No, she _knew_ she couldn't.

No matter what Luna did, she stood a high chance of regretting it. She could no sooner go on living with this on her chest than she could risk losing the most important man in her life.

_'What am I supposed to do!?'_

The young woman suddenly wished Sam was there, intensely, the way a drowning man might wish for a lifejacket. She'd listen to her, give her the best advice and reassurance a girl could ask for. Sam would know what to do.

She struggled hard to imagine what her girlfriend might say in that moment. _Go for it. It's what you want so why not?_

It _was _what she wanted, but it wasn't that easy! If Lincoln were any other guy (or girl), Luna wouldn't hesitate to make a move. Why wouldn't she? If he rejected her, then so what? Yeah, it'd sting, but she'd get over it. If he pulled away from her and didn't want to be her friend anymore, she'd be deeply hurt, but she would survive. But Lincoln wasn't just _some guy_. He was...

The word that came to mind first was _soulmate, _but she wasn't sure even that was right. It implied a romantic bond, but what she and her brother had wasn't like that, not exactly. She cast about for a way to articulate it to herself, and was frustrated when she couldn't. The best that she could come up with was that it wasn't simply that they were two people who fit together right, it was more like they were two different parts of the same whole to begin with, the connection between them cosmic, fated. It was something she couldn't describe, only feel. Like they'd been cut from one spirit and put into two different bodies. He was a part of her, full stop. She loved Sam and wanted to be with her, but she needed Lincoln too.

She bet that wasn't part of Sam's plan - her actually being in love with her brother. Luna figured she probably thought it was just about sex. It wasn't. That'd be another awkward conversation, right after the one she had with him. _Yeah, I'm kiiiinda actually head over heels for Lincoln, so…_

That gave her pause. Over the past week, she had been so consumed with her brother that she never stopped to think about how it might affect her girlfriend.

God, she was such garbage...

Drawing a shaky breath, she let it out through her nose and stared at the closed bedroom door, beyond which awaited the boy that had become the sole focus of her thoughts of late. She imagined herself sitting next to him on the couch, taking his hand in hers, and confessing everything. She imagined every possible reaction on his face, from disgust to acceptance. The latter was as beautiful as the former was ugly and it made her heart ache.

She wanted to see it in real life.

Luna started to get up, intent on telling him, but stopped herself. She had to talk to Sam first. She owed her that much.

Later, she vowed.

Then again, maybe not...maybe she'd forget all about this.

She wasn't able to decide.

And she was afraid she never would be.

Luna opened the door and went out into the living room. Lincoln sat on the couch in jeans and a t-shirt, his focus on the television. He glanced at his sister and smiled, his face instinctively lighting up at the sight of her, and it made her heart soar. "Hey, Linc," she greeted, barely able to keep the tremble out of her voice.

"Hey Lunes," he answered happily, "Good morning."

For a moment, she hesitated, but ultimately she couldn't help but go to him. It was strange: alone and adrift in her own personal sea of troubles, it felt like she could hardly even get a grip, but despite the worries that tormented her being centered entirely around her little brother, when she was actually _with_ him she couldn't help but feel at ease. Simply being in his company was...pleasant. Warm and comfortable, like a favorite shirt she'd been sleeping in her whole life; the sense of safety and reassurance slipped over her shoulders and enveloped her before she'd even noticed it, leaving her curling her toes with pleasure. It was like no matter whatever else was happening, she at least knew she was loved. Luna dropped down next to the boy and stretched her bare, toned legs, basking a bit in the feeling. "How'd you sleep?" She smiled, giving no hint as to what was truly on her mind. The act was well rehearsed.

"Alright," Lincoln nodded. "I'm getting used to the couch."

"Just in time to start sleeping in a bed again," his sister teased.

Lincoln chuckled. "I know, right?"

"Don't lie," she nudged him playfully with her shoulder, "You missed your old bed."

He opened his mouth but stopped himself. "Yeah," he admitted, "I kind of do. I never thought I'd say that. It's not all that comfy either."

"It's the one that came with the dorm, right?" She asked.

He nodded again. "Yeah, it was included."

Luna crinkled her nose. "That's kind of gross. You don't know how many people slept on it or whether they got busy. They probably did, you know."

"That's what sheets are for." Lincoln got defensive, though he couldn't help but admit he'd had the thought before and it bothered him.

"Sheets are thin pieces of fabric, though," she kept picking at his sore spot playfully, "They can't protect you from much."

He tilted his head to the side. "So are surgical masks, but we still wore them out in 2020."

Luna laughed. "Oh, you had to bring _that_ up."

He grinned. "It wasn't that bad. Getting three months off school was cool, at least."

She remembered all too well. Mom and Dad wouldn't let them leave the house for fear of catching sick with COVID-19 so she and the others spent weeks inside. She couldn't see Sam during that period and so, predictably, she wound up spending a lot of time with Lincoln.

A slight frown creased her lips. Now that the memories were coming back she distinctly recalled old feelings rekindling during their self-isolation. She had been with Sam for a while at that point and had forgotten her earlier emotions towards her brother. Cooped up with him for most of the spring and summer of 2020, however, she started to feel them again, faint flutters at first, then strong pangs that rippled through her stomach every time he was near. If the quarantine didn't end when it did, she wondered if something may have happened between them.

And right now, wanting to tell him her feelings and not being able to, she kind of wished it had, damn the consequences.

"It was actually kind of scary," she said honestly. "Everyone getting sick and stuff."

Lincoln sighed. "Yeah, it kind of was, but not as scary as being stuck inside with Lynn and Luan for three months. Honestly, by the end of it I was ready to take my chances."

Luna chuckled. "Dude, you think you guys had it bad? I was her _roommate_. I can't tell you how many virus puns she cracked. Seriously, it was _nonstop_!"

"I remember the worst one she made." He said, shifting on the couch to turn and face his sister giddily, pleased to be able to reminisce with someone. He'd been alone in the city for too long with no one to really talk to and no relationships as real as the one had with with his sisters. He had uni friends, sure, but it wasn't the same. Just hanging with Luna and being able to drop his guard and connect like they used to was giving him a surprisingly intense thrill. The boy beamed her with another bright smile that sent her stomach fluttering. "How'd it go...? 'All these virus jokes -'"

"_It's a pundemic!_" They recited in unison, then laughed. The vibe in the room was good and comfortable, just like the old days, and he relished in it. Lincoln gave a long sigh, reclining back on the couch.

"It sucked having to repeat the same grade again, though." He mentioned idly, though the grin didn't leave his face.

Luna rolled her eyes. "I know, man, it blew _hard_. Poor Leni thought she was finally going to graduate, then BOOM, another year of school. Surprise." She shook her head. "Hey...speaking of school," Luna suddenly recalled, "How are you doing? We really haven't talked much about it. You're almost done, right?"

"Yeah," Lincoln nodded, "The next semester's my last."

"Do you know what you're gonna do when you graduate?" she asked. "Are you gonna stay here? Go back to Royal Woods?"

At this the grin finally left his face. The young man was silent for a moment, his tongue prodding the inside of his bottom lip; Luna suspected that if she listened hard enough, she would hear the _Final Jeopardy! _theme playing in his head. Finally, he let out a deep breath and shrugged wearily. "I don't know. I was thinking of going back home until I find a position in my field, but in the meantime, I have to work a regular job and there's just not much in Royal Woods, you know?"

She did. One of the main reasons she and Sam moved to the city was because the job market in Royal Woods was virtually non-existent. Here in Great Lakes City, there were so many shops, restaurants, stores, businesses, companies - so many _openings_ \- that if you really wanted to work, you could work. It might not be the job you wanted, but it was something, and the freedom of knowing that if your gig ever got really bad you could leave and quickly find another appealed to Luna. She confided to him as much, and gave a long sigh.

"There's not a whole lot I can do. Like...my skill set's really limited, so I have to be in a place where there are a lot of entry level jobs." The rocker admitted.

It stung to say so, but it was true. In high school, she was so focused on Sam and her music that she never gave much thought to other things. She was going to be a big rock star one day, why should she worry about the mechanics of a workaday life that she would never lead?

Only things didn't break quite the way she thought they would and here she was, living in a not-so-great part of town and working a job with almost no chance of advancement. "I didn't focus enough in school and now I'm starting to wonder if I didn't make a mistake." She forced a laugh, but it was a real worry of hers sometimes.

"Hey, I don't know how to do anything either," Lincoln consoled her. "I can make sandwiches and mop floors. That qualifies me for, like, .01 of all jobs out there. I could work at Flip's or something, but there aren't all that many places I could go besides that, and having a place to live is the most important thing anyway. I can't afford an apartment here." He stopped. "I mean, I guess if I found some roommates I'd consider it. Otherwise…" he trailed off. "Ugh, I dunno what I'm doing."

"You can stay here!" Luna offered instantly. It did not occur to her that she had just invited her brother to move into her apartment (in direct defiance of her lease and without consulting Sam) because he needed a place to live. End of story. What Sam and her landlord thought didn't matter.

The boy was briefly stunned before a familiar swell of affection for his sister overtook him. "R-really? Wow, Luna." He scratched the back of his neck shyly. Lincoln seemed really touched she'd offer, and the grateful look he gave her made her heart clench. "But I couldn't do that to you guys." He demurred. "You and Sam have a real life together; I'd just be a third wheel, screwing it up." He sighed, and she desperately wanted to tell him that wasn't true. That he'd fit into their life just fine. That they WANTED him there. If he only knew..."Besides," He put on a brave smile, "I can go anywhere. It's not like I have much keeping me here, you know? Just my crappy job, you guys and -"

He quickly cut himself off.

"What?" Luna asked.

"Nothing, I was just going to say…" The young man furrowed his brows.

He let the thought hang unfinished between them. The somber cast of his face - gaze downcast and lips sucked into his mouth - bespoke pain; he looked like a little boy who started to say how excited his was to play catch with his dad later only to remember his dad had died the month before. "What?" She pressed.

Lincoln sighed. "I was gonna say Ronnie Anne but…" he shrugged, as if that somehow explained everything.

And, she guessed, it did. Way back, he and Ronnie Anne were tight, but then she moved away and from what he'd said in the past, she'd changed a lot.

"You guys talk?" she asked gently.

"No," he said, "I just...I guess I just keep…" he hesitated.

Luna turned in a rustle of fabric and faced him. He looked uncomfortable, as though he was preparing to discuss the finer points of the birds and the bees with his mother. "C'mon," she said and smiled reassuringly, "You can tell me. You keep what?"

He looked at her, and a goofy grin spread across his lips. Was he thinking the same thing she was? That this was just like old times? Him and her alone, sharing their secrets and confiding their problems in each other. She rested her hands in her lap and straightened her back. "Spill, bro." She commanded with jokey severity.

Lincoln looked at her for a second, then turned away to hide his embarrassment. "I just keep hoping that maybe things will work out and me and her can still be together." His cheeks turned a deep shade of red and he squirmed awkwardly. "It's kind of dumb, but I'm still...I don't know...hung up on her, I guess."

"She was really important to you," Luna said, "It makes sense."

"Yeah," Lincoln confessed, "She was. She was my only girlfriend, so…" he trailed off again.

For a long time, Luna struggled for something to say. It was obvious that this was bothering him, and as his big sister, it was her job to bust out a pearl of sage life advice. "That's just how it goes sometimes," she finally sighed. "People change and that's that. I've been there. I've had friends who are totally different than they used to be, and it's kind of like…"

"...They died?" Lincoln offered, instantly picking up on what his sister really meant as she struggled for a less depressing way to put it.

Luna hesitated. "Yeah," she finally said soberly. "Like they died."

There was a moment where neither said anything, simply digesting the notion.

"I know she's not the same person she used to be," Lincoln reflected, "But sometimes, when I look at her, I feel like I can almost see the girl I knew back then, you know? And it gives me hope. But then it's gone just as quickly as it came and I smarten up...only to get fooled the next time." He sighed. "Sometimes I think I do it to myself."

"Do you like her?" Luna asked. "Like...as a friend? You don't see her much, right?"

Lincoln shook his head. "Not really, every once in a while. And...I don't know if I like her. I kind of don't." The boy grimaced, as if he wasn't very pleased to admit it. "We're just, you know, two different people now and we don't really gel anymore. I don't _dislike _her, I just feel kind of…"

"Neutral?" Luna asked.

"Yeah," He said after a minute, "Neutral."

"All I can say, man, is do what feels right. If you wanna stay her friend, do it, but if you ask _me_, you should just move on." She smiled sadly. "It's like the song says. 'You can't put your arms around a memory.'"

Lincoln considered her words for a long time. Luna watched his countenance as he seemed to ponder, deep in thought, and the droplets of rain still banging on the window sent their shadows slithering down his impassive, handsome face. His shoulders swelled with tension as he took a deep breath, as if in the seconds he held it within his chest he was processing the entirety of he and Ronnie Anne's almost decade-long on again off again relationship before at last releasing another long, sad sigh. "I know you're right. I know..." He shook his head, then stood up. "...I'm gonna take a shower."

"Alright..." Luna sent him off gently.

When he was gone, she pulled her knees up to her chest and replayed the conversation she'd just had to herself. Ronnie Anne was an idiot. Full stop. She had to be, otherwise she would have realized what a great guy Lincoln was and staked her claim on him long, long ago. Well, in a way she had, with all the bullying back when they were kids...Luna supposed she really had changed. Her brother was sweet, devoted, attentive, compassionate, smart...Heck, he was even cute, too - he was like the perfect guy.

Maybe she was seeing him through rose colored lenses. Maybe she saw only an exaggeration of his best qualities because she was so gah-gah over him. She could accept her perspective was skewed, but Lincoln truly was a good man when you got right down to it and it depressed her that few enough others seemed to notice, especially because she sensed it was starting to make him get low. The rocker was worried that if things kept going that way he'd change himself in an effort to get some girl, and Luna didn't want that. She liked him the way he was. She liked _her_ Lincoln, the one she'd always been pining after.

Then again, maybe it was a good thing. It meant she didn't have to compete for him with a bunch of other girls. More of her little brother for her, right?

Her stomach knotted.

If she could woman up enough to tell him her feelings, that was.

Lincoln was going back to school tomorrow just a few miles away. He wasn't walking out of her life and she could see him almost any time she wanted, but for some reason, it felt like this was her last chance...her last chance to open her heart to him, her last chance to be with him, her last chance to take her shot.

And that depressed her even more. Because deep in her coward's heart…

...she knew she couldn't do it.

* * *

Lincoln Loud passed much of that Saturday afternoon dividing his attention between his phone and the television set. The rain picked up mid-morning and hissed in the streets like a chorus of whispers, and even though he hadn't actually been planning on leaving the apartment that day, he had the sense of being trapped anyway.

There was also another reason for that feeling, one that he couldn't quite place. He was leaving tomorrow morning and he looked forward to it with a curious mix of dread and suspense. His week with Sam and Luna started strange and confusing and awoke thoughts and feelings in him that he couldn't explain and which threw his entire being into chaos. He was relieved it was almost over, but a large part of him - a large, large part - didn't want it to end. It wanted to stay right here and...who knows? He refused to allow himself to dwell further on it because he was afraid. Afraid a detail about himself that he'd regret finding out about would bubble up to the surface. It was best to just play his game and worry about his Sims. He'd go back to school tomorrow, clear his head, and everything would be fine. Every ship hits a rough patch of sea now and then. Some of them sink...but not him. He'd get through this and from here on out, it'd be smooth sailing.

He should find a girlfriend.

The thought had come unbidden and it gave him pause.

If he were honest with himself, the reason he felt the things he felt and thought the things he thought this past week all sprang directly from a place of lovelorn confusion. The only girl he'd ever been serious with was Ronnie Anne, and even _that _relationship hadn't been _too_ serious. He wanted a girlfriend and not having one was starting to drive him bonkers. It was the only explanation for his loathsome behavior. The best remedy was, therefore, to get one. His stomach knotted at the proposition, but if he sat around like a geek, he knew his problem was only going to get worse. After the ugly things he'd been discovering about himself in the last few days and the way he'd started looking at Sam and even Luna, what was next? Was he going to start thinking of his other sisters and, oh God, maybe even his mother romantically because...he didn't know, there were girls and he was comfortable with them?

Yeah, that sounded right. He wasn't comfortable around girls. He was shy, awkward. He could never think of anything to say to them and just considering trying to hit on one made him freeze up. He hated to admit it because it embarassed him, but he was hopeless that way. With Luna, Sam and the others, he felt at ease because with them, there was no pressure. He wasn't trying to impress them, he wasn't psyching himself out hoping they liked him enough to date him, he could just be himself and not worry about anything else. Only now, he was getting his emotions confused and he kind of _was _acting like they were potential partners.

Disgusting.

He was pathetic.

He needed to get a grip on himself and start dating. He needed to channel his emotions into healthier avenues. He needed to get over these weird incestuous urges or whatever he had going on and stop being a goddamn nutcase. There was a cute girl in his art class. He'd never seen her with another guy, so maybe she was single.

The idea of talking to her stressed him out, but he resolved to do it anyway. She might reject him, but he needed to be proactive. Most girls weren't the tough, grab 'em by the shirt and drag them off like cavemen types. The man had to make the first move. If he kept waiting for them to do the work, chances were he was going to die alone. Or worse, transfer his impacted emotions into 'safe' girls like his siblings. _My sister is nice and sweet and loves me, _he'd think, _she's everything I want in a girl, she'd never hurt me and I'm soooo comfortable with her. I should ask her out!_

A sardonic smile spread across his lips and he threw his head back to give a tired, mirthless chuckle. Isn't that what he was doing already? He'd never put it into so many words, but yeah...

Jeez, he had issues.

Admitting it was hard but it was the first step on the road to recovery, he tried to console himself. It didn't mean he was doomed to be a creep forever. Lincoln had always been the type to actively try and fix it when he noticed a problem. The next step, well, it was to start putting himself out there more.

Monday. He'd talk to that girl on Monday. If she turned him down, so what? He'd talk to another one. And if she turned him down, he'd talk to another. He'd work his way through that entire school and the surrounding neighborhoods if he had to if it meant sparing his beloved sister and her girlfriend from his newfound and unwelcome crapulence. If worse came to worst, he'd hire a hooker.

He paused, hesitating. Well, maybe not.

Still, even with all the worries and concerns he had distracting him, he couldn't help but notice just how profoundly he'd enjoyed the time he'd spent that morning with Luna. The young man thought he'd be dwelling on Ronnie Anne while he was in the shower and getting into his own head like he always did whenever he thought about her, but he was surprised to find how once the water started his mind slowly drifted back to his big sister like a steering wheel swinging back to its default position. Before he even knew it, he'd actually caught himself _singing _a little bit. He couldn't remember the last time he'd sung in the shower!

At first Lincoln simply chalked his good mood up to their talk being a long awaited and long needed respite from the intense social isolation living in a city where you didn't really know anyone fostered, but if he was honest with himself, it was more than that. The young man had never admitted it to anyone, but out of all his sisters, Luna had always kiiiiind of been his favorite. Yes, yes, it was terrible to have a favorite, but really, everyone does. He had a great relationship with all his siblings, but stretching back all the way to when he was a kid, Luna had always been special. They had a connection. Even back then he'd picked up on it; the rocker had always been the one to give him just that little bit more leeway than the rest of the girls did, always demanded a little bit less of him and offered to do a little bit more. If he screwed up and did something to embarrass his siblings, as he, unfortunately, had on more than one occasion, Luna would always be the one to stop giving him the cold shoulder sooner than the rest. If he went out of his way to do something nice for them, she'd be the one that was just that little bit more appreciative of it, hug him a little longer and thank him a little bit more sincerely. Luna cared about him a lot, and he, for his part, loved his big sister that little bit extra right back.

It went both ways, too. Lincoln would do anything for his family, sure, but whenever he had a problem, whenever he felt down or depressed or even just bored, it would always be Luna that knocked on his door and asked him if he wanted to hang out, with that twinkle in her eye and that easy, open smirk of hers that told him he could tell her anything; he could lay all her troubles on her lap and she'd listen and be there for him. It definitely wasn't 'cool' for a boy on the verge of teenagehood to use his older sister as a confidant, but time and again, that's what Lincoln did. She would have been entirely in her right to shrug him off as a young woman with her own life and worries and concerns, and having little in common with a kid his age when it got right down to it, but unlike some of the others, she never once did. She was never too busy for her little bro. She went out of her way to be there for him, and thus, Luna had always held a very special place in Lincoln's heart. It was inevitable that he'd grow closer to her, and ultimately it resulted in some of his most fond memories as a child to be of coming home from school, throwing his backpack in the hall and immediately rushing up the stairs to his big sister's room to spend the rest of the day listening to Luna's records snuggled up with her. Even now if he really thought about it, he felt if he closed his eyes and tried his hardest he could almost recall the old sensation of the fabric of her shirt against his face, the smell of lavender from her skin and the sound of her soft, musical humming as she brushed her fingers through his hair and he slowly drifted to sleep. The memories were that dear.

He shook his head, surprised at how powerful a burst of emotion he felt when he remembered. The young man thought he could actually feel his eyes sting a bit, and e pretended it was just from the water getting in them. Lincoln figured it was all down to how alone he'd felt the last couple of years, not merely in the romantic sense but in the sense of being away from the people he loved and who he knew loved him back, Luna chief among them. If he was honest, even before that week, there was a brief moment in his life, when he was young enough not to know much better, that he thought he might...have had a crush on her. The idea mortified him once he'd grown a little older and of course he never, ever mentioned it to anyone, but to him, it just went to show the kind of relationship they'd had that he'd felt that way for even a second. Lincoln wasn't excusing his own awful thoughts now as a grown adult or even thought they were related, he only justified it to himself that it wasn't THAT crazy for a kid to feel that way, right...? Luna was beautiful, talented, kind, sweet, supportive and to now, falling into puppy love for a girl like that when he was still a boy chasing after his big sister's heels wasn't anything to be ashamed of.

He soon realized, with a helpless chuckle, that he was getting defensive about his own feelings, even inside his own mind. In Lincoln's own way he was just as neurotic as Lori had been when she was his age, wasn't he? As different from each other as they at first seemed to be, the Louds actually had a lot of traits in common when you got right down to it.

All of that was to say, in so many words, that he and Luna shared a bond. They weren't always the best at hiding it, and their obvious preference for each other had drawn more than one grouchy comment from the particularly needy girls like Lola, but ultimately there wasn't really any denying their special relationship.

But that didn't meant he wasn't still surprised to discover, once he was able to set aside Sam and sex and his own perversions, just how much he'd actually _missed_ her.

Ever since he left home to start college it felt like he was in an emotional deprivation tank. His days had been nothing but work, study, work, study, and maybe hit the bar with the guys every other weekend. He'd always try and find the time and the opportunity to go back home or to visit Luna, he still had a sense of longing for his family, but with how busy he always was and with all the chaos in the Loud house when he visited, combined with his job taking up a lot of his breaks, it never really felt like he had enough time to loosen up, lower his Great Lakes City defenses and really be himself around them anymore. It was a sort of needless guardedness on his part that, in retrospect, he hated himself for not working harder to get rid of. Today he'd actually gotten to spend a quiet moment and just _be_ with his sister, honestly, to laugh and reminisce and smile, and it made him realize nothing had changed. He felt just as loved and happy with her as he used to; it was like no time had even passed at all from those good old days listening to Smooch with her in her room while the rain banged against the window. Past whatever was going on with Sam, past his own weird feelings, past his bad luck with women, once he'd stopped being so self-involved and actually taken the time to really _talk _to Luna, he'd found she was still the same wonderful girl she always was, still his favorite person in the world. He resolved right then that no matter what, he was going to visit his sister more often. Maybe not long stays like this where he and her girlfriend would be forced together, he was still very wary of himself in that regard, but day visits at least. She meant a lot to him and he regretted not showing it to her on one of the rare chances he'd had to his free week because of his own stupid-hang ups.

And beyond that, well...spending time with Luna made him feel good. Better than he'd felt in quite a while. He wasn't going to let himself keep drifting away from her anymore. They lived in the same city far away from the whole rest of their family, for heaven's sake. When he really thought about it, it was crazy they didn't hang out more. In a sense, all they had was each other.

Well, each other and Sam...

The rain let up around the time Luna finished showering and she'd promptly suggested they go out. "I'm gonna go stir crazy," she begged. Lincoln had said nothing, but when he saw her again his resolve to be a better, more present brother firmed and he'd been moved to give her a sudden hug. While she'd been unprepared for it at first, she quickly and happily returned it. The two soon left their apartment; the streets were still damp and musty, but the sun shined, and the two were able to enjoy a truly peaceful moment together, simply going for a walk through the city.

They ate at a corner store boasting a modest lunch counter and a menu consisting of five items. Several booths were shoved into a remote alcove all but hidden by a Pepsi cooler and a wall-mounted TV played an episode of _Divorce Court. _Luna ordered a soft taco and Lincoln a tamale, and they ate in one of the booths, both unconsciously going out of their way to keep from making eye contact with the other. "Pretty good," Lincoln offered tentatively as a way to break the strange tension that briefly resurfaced when their hands brushed together when they went for the same condiment bottle.

"Yeah, this place is really killer," Luna grinned. "That's what I love about living in this part of town, you got all kinds of food trucks and little mom and pop places like this. You don't get that in the richy rich neighborhoods." The quaint bohemia of her current living arrangaments seemed to really please her. Lincoln still thought the area was a bit too grimy for his liking, but the tamales were tasty enough to make up for it.

Afterwards, they took a walk to Middlesex Park, a long, narrow strip of trees and duck ponds wedged between West 99th Street and Ridgedale Drive. They stopped before one of the ponds and watched a family of the birds glide across the surface, mama in the lead and her babies bringing up the rear in a sloppy formation that broke and wavered as the ducklings got off course. "We should have bought some bread," Luna said.

"You should have saved some of your taco." Lincoln chided good-humoredly.

She snorted. "Yeah, no, that taco was for me."

"Greedy," he said with a sad head shake.

Luna rolled her eyes. "I didn't see you holding back any of that tamale."

"It's too spicy for ducks," Lincoln pointed out. "It'll burn their bills off."

By unspoken consent, they started back to the main gate. "Those tamales aren't spicy, man, you're just weak."

"_I _don't think they're spicy, but I'm not a duck. Ducks aren't used to spice."

They got back to the apartment fifteen minutes later, Luna humming happily the whole way and Lincoln drinking in the moment with quiet contentment. His sister stopped him in the lobby so she could check the mail, but as the girl stood before the mailbox and flipped through the day's offerings her smile changed into a quickly deepening frown. Lincoln gathered that most, if not all, of the missives were bills. She and Sam lived as cheap and off the grid as two people in the city could, but they still had credit card debt and medical bills. Last year, Luna had her gallbladder out and because she didn't have health insurance, she was stuck with paying the whole thing on her own. She'd been making tiny payments on a monthly basis ever since, and expected to be fully paid off by the time she hit thirty. Then there was the MasterCard she and Sam applied for and used for emergency purchases. Two years ago, Sam lost her then job and couldn't find another for six months. Without her bringing any money home, they were hurting financially, and wound up putting close to a thousand dollars they couldn't afford onto the card. That one would take a lot longer to pay off than Luna's surgery.

A lot longer.

When they finally got up to the apartment, Luna excused herself before fetching her laptop from hers and Sam's room and dropping onto the couch. She booted it up, leaned over, and grabbed the bills from the coffee table, her sigh of defeat telling Lincoln she was going to (reluctantly) pay them. He sat next to her in the sort of show of quiet support one broke loser gives to another, crossed his legs, and whipped out his phone.

Shortly thereafter, the front door opened and Sam came in with a paper bag clutched to her chest. Luna looked up and greeted her as Lincoln let out a pent up breath.

"Hey," Sam said. She went into the kitchen and sat the bag on the counter with a thunk. "I got supplies for tonight," she said with a grin. She pulled out a bottle of amber liquid and held it enticingly up. "Bottoms up."

Oh right, the party. With everything else going on, it had totally slipped Lincoln's mind. Tonight, he'd have to endure several hours of hanging out with people he didn't know, probably Luna and Sam's intense, artist-type friends, and feeling awkward. For a moment the thought passed through his mind, 'the perfect end to the perfect week', but then he shook his head and frowned, angry at himself for his obnoxious, ungrateful attitude. Both Luna and Sam had been nothing but kind to him his entire break; the girls had opened their home to him, gone far out of their way to make him feel included, feel welcome, and now they were even going through the trouble and expense of throwing him a going away party. Meanwhile he'd only really been able to get out of his own head a bit and have some fun on this, his last day there, and now he felt like he'd wasted one of the few opportunities he'd had lately to spend time with his sister. There was no reason for him to act like such a brat just because his own deranged lust had him second-guessing himself and on edge; that wasn't their fault. He let out a secret sigh and decided that for the last night he had left with the two, he was going to put his worries out of his mind and try to start taking the first steps towards being a being a more gracious guest and a better brother. He'd make it up to the two girls soon. Maybe he'd drop by with groceries next week, help them defray the bill for this party. And some sandwiches from work, too!

"Dude, how much did that cost?" Luna asked sharply.

"I got it on sale for ten," Sam said. "We needed more."

Luna sighed. "Man, we really can't afford that stuff."

"Oh, relax," The blonde reassured her, "We're gonna have a fantastic night. I guarantee it."

The boy briefly stopped calculating in his head how much of his salary wasn't reserved for other expenses that month and figuring out how much he could afford to spend to glance at Sam. Was it just him...or did her eyes twinkle when she said that?


	13. The Party

**Thanks again to DoctorYNot for making this chapter shine.**

The party started just after dusk. Sam and Luna had been busy setting up for close to half an hour when the first guest arrived. Lincoln had just gotten out of the shower and dressed in a pair of jeans and a white polo shirt - he wanted to look nice but casual too. Knowing Sam and Luna, their friends would all be in ripped jeans, Converse All-Stars, and plaid; he didn't want to look like some kind of stuck-up prep, but it was either a polo or one of the tank tops he slept in. Call him shy, call him self-conscious, but the thought of baring his pale arms and nothing-to-write-home-about chest in front of people he didn't know made him falter.

He was somewhat surprised and a little relieved when the first guest turned out to be Mazzy, Sam and Luna's old friend. He didn't know her well but she used to hang out with their group when they were still in high school. She looked much as she had then, with dark red bangs covering her eyes (she wore her hair that way in conscious imitation of Slice, the guitarist from Pistols 'n' Poseys, her favorite band). The only difference he noticed was the reek of cigarettes that enshrouded her like a stomach-turning forcefield. She grabbed his hand, squeezed so hard he swore he heard bones crunching, and gave it a vigorous shake that nearly dislocated his shoulder. "Hey, man, long time no see!" She beamed, tickled at meeting her friend's little brother, now all grown up. "How you been?"

"Long time no see, Mazzy," he smiled, inwardly flinching at the pain in his arm. "I've been alright. You?"

"Same shit, different day, man," the woman shrugged, "I'm working at a gas station these days and play drums in a band on the weekends. We play gay bars for free beer." Her grin suggested she was happy with that arrangement. "You still in school?" She asked.

"Yeah," Lincoln confirmed sheepishly, "Mainly for art."

Older people - and even some of the guys he knew on campus - rolled their eyes or gave him a hard time when he mentioned being an art major. _You're gonna come out and wait tables, _his roommate teased, _no one with an art degree makes it. _Mazzy, on the other hand, only nodded. "Hey, man, that's tight. You're into comics and stuff, right?"

"I am," The young man admitted. He hated telling people like her - cool people - about his love for comics, because even if they didn't say anything, he felt like they looked down on him as a geek or something, but he supposed it didn't matter. Lincoln rationalized that Mazzy knew him from before, so it's not like she wasn't already aware he was a dork.

She hummed her interest. "That's pretty cool. You gonna do your own one day?"

In the living room, Sam sat a platter full of chips and pretzels on the coffee table and in the kitchen, Luna pulled a cooking sheet laden with chicken wings from the oven. Lincoln noticed them out of the corner of his eye. "I mean, I hope." He scratched the back of his head, "You know how it can be, though."

"Keep working at it," Mazzy encouraged him, "Creative stuff always takes a lotta practice."

Done with laying out the snacks, Sam passed behind Lincoln and went into the kitchen, sidestepping Luna. "You want something to drink, Maz?" She asked over her shoulder.

"I'm down," she said, "What'cha got?"

"We got the hard stuff," Sam said and held up a bottle of rum, "and we got the soft stuff." She flashed a bottle of green apple flavored Smirnoff.

Mazzy scrunched her lips to the side in thought. "I dunno, my instincts are telling me to go all the way, but I got work tomorrow, so...eh..." After a moment of consideration she finally shrugged, defeated, "Hit me with the bitch drink."

Sam tossed the Smirnoff underhanded and Mazzy snatched it out of the air. She twisted the cap off and shoved it into her pocket. "I love this junk," she winked to Lincoln, before taking a heroic pull. The boy said nothing, quietly impressed by the pace she was setting right off the bat.

"Linc?" Sam drawled sweetly, batting her eyelashes. Lincoln put his guard up a bit as he turned back to her. If he didn't know any better, he'd say she was up to something. "Are you thirsty?"

"Sure," He answered, not wanting to look the wimp after Mazzy's display. "I'll take a Smirnoff."

A devious little grin skipped across Sam's lips. "I have something else in mind. You're gonna like it."

There was a twinkle in her eye, and for the first time in days, Lincoln's throat constricted as a queer sense of danger started tickling at the base of his spine.

Turning away, Sam took a bottle down from one of the overhead cabinets, sat it on the counter, and fetched two glasses from the drying rack. Next to her, Luna used a spatula to transfer the chicken wings to a plate, then beckoned Lincoln over. "Can you set these on the coffee table, bro?"

He gave her a thumbs up, receiving the offered plate and walking it over to the chips. Mazzy stood in front of the TV and took a long drink from her Smirnoff, apparently amused by what she was watching. He took a glance while picking up a wing. Onscreen, a fat woman sat up in bed and shoved a Burpin' Burger Deluxe into her mouth. _After lunch, I'm going to see Dr. Now and find out if I qualify for surgery, _she declared happily. Lincoln paused, looked down at the chicken wing he was holding, then back at the woman on TV. He hesitated for a moment before slowly putting it back.

Maybe he'd have a carrot stick instead.

Someone brushed against him and he jumped. "Here you go, Lincy," Sam said and handed him a glass.

The liquid inside was pure black.

"What's...What's that?" he asked cautiously; Sam was definitely the kind of person that you liked, but didn't fully trust. There was no way he was going to pour an unlabeled drink she'd prepared for him down his throat without getting the facts first.

"Kahlua," The blonde smiled, "It tastes like coffee. It's my favorite drink!"

He stared down into the contents of his glass with a bemused, though slightly less wary, frown. They made liquor that tasted like coffee? Maybe he was callow when it came to alcohol, but even as someone that genuinely enjoyed peanut butter and sauerkraut sandwiches, coffee and booze struck him as one of those strange and unnecessary combinations that couldn't possibly be good. He lifted it to his nose and gave a dubious sniff.

It smelled just like he thought it would, like coffee grounds and alcohol.

Sam arched her brows. "What, you think I did something to it?"

"N-no!" He said, perhaps a bit too quickly, "I just...never had it." He shook his head, "It sounds kind of weird, to be honest."

"It's not," The rocker assured him. "I promise. I drink it all the time. Just have a sip and let the coffinated goodness flow through you."

Lincoln wrinkled his nose. "I don't think that's a word."

"Look~ it~ up~." She pronounced each syllable slowly, drawing a circle on his chest with her fingertip each time she did, pink lips pursing as though she were preparing for a kiss. Lincoln's stomach gave an apprehensive lurch. "But have a drink first. It'll help you...unwind."

There was a pregnant pause between _you _and _unwind, _and the corners of her mouth curled up in an elfin simper that somehow managed to be both innocent and dirty at the same time. She nodded to his glass, and he realized he was staring at her. "Go on," she pressed, "Unless you wanna be a doofus like Mazzy and only drink girly wine coolers."

"Fuck you, bitch," Mazzy said around a mouthful of chicken.

Lincoln brought the glass to his lips and hesitated. Seeing that he still wasn't sold, Sam shoved her hand under the glass, palm up, and lifted. The young man's eyes widened in alarm as cold kahlua splashed against his lips, and he had no choice but to drink like an altar boy accepting communion before it could all spill down his shirt.

To his surprise, it tasted a lot better than it smelled.

"Good boy," Sam purred while patting his head with her other hand; the playful condescension in her voice and the vulnerable position she had him, Lincoln too busy guzzling down the drink to swat her hand away, made him blush down to his neck. Mazzy, for her part, seemed entertained by the way Sam was putting him through his paces. Thankfully the party hadn't kicked off yet and so his sister's old bandmate was the only audience to his emasculation.

The next three guests came in a group, friends of Sam and Luna's Lincoln had never met before. He missed the woman's name, but the men were Rick and Daryl, or maybe it was Mick and Errol. Rick-Mick was tall and lanky and wore a kit cap and a plaid shirt; Daryl-Errol was short and husky, a smiley face with its eyes stitched closed emblazoned across the front of his shirt; the woman was cadaverously thin with a mane of curly red hair that looked like it hadn't been washed in weeks. Sporting a nose ring, tattoos on her bare arms, and black-rimmed Buddy Holly glasses, she looked like one of the vegan hipsters who occasionally protested about the patriarchy in the campus commons at his university.

Looks can be deceiving. In actual fact, she pounded three chicken wings in her first five minutes there, then affectionately referred to Daryl (her boyfriend, Lincoln gathered) as 'that fuckin' fag.' Lincoln simply smiled friendlily, unsure how to respond; he was intermittently sipping the second of his Kahluas, the first having been essentially shotgunned thanks to his sister's girlfriend, and before he was even finished with it, Sam appeared next to him, snatching the glass out of his hands for a refill.

"Here you go, Linc," she said and held out his refreshed drink, now topped up to the rim once again.

His instincts again told him she was up to something, but he wasn't as on guard anymore and happily took it. The concoction was indeed good and, from what his admittedly limited drinking experience told him, not very strong. He didn't see any danger in having just a few more.

In the kitchen, Luna slid a cooking sheet out of the oven and sat it on the stove. A dozen pigs-in-a-blanket baked in the light cast by the range, several burned and the rest two shades above golden brown. "These goddamn things always burn," Luna said bitterly.

"Aw," The young woman suddenly felt someone hugging her from the back and could feel her girlfriend's teasing pout as she gave her a soft kiss on her shoulder, "Life got you down? I have the perfect solution." Sam spun her around and proudly presented a glass of kahlua she'd just prepared for her. "Get drunk."

Luna gave her a blank stare. "No way, dude. Someone has to be the grown-up tonight. You know how the guys get at these things."

"Oh, come ooooon," Sam begged.

"Not happening, sorry." Luna crossed her arms, arching a brow at Sam's insistence.

The blonde rolled her eyes and shook her head as though her girlfriend were being completely unreasonable. "You're being a stick in the mud. It's Lincoln's last day here, the least you can do is make the most of it. Not doing so would be disrespectful." She turned to Lincoln. "Right, Linc?"

Lincoln nodded, smirking, grateful that he was for once on the attacking end of one of Sam's ploys. Besides, he too was eager to get his sister to relax a bit. He'd sensed her stress over the past few days and thought this party was a good chance for her to blow off some steam; he only felt bad he'd been too self-involved to notice her mood sooner and ask about what was wrong. "_Really_ disrespectful. Might as well spit in my face."

"See?" Sam asked and turned back to Luna. "You're being mad rude." Her girlfriend pursed her lips, unconvinced. "You know you waaaanna~," The blonde tempted in a singsong voice. She held the glass under Luna's nose, practically fanning the alcohol fumes up her nostrils.

"I don't wanna get tore up," The rocker repeated, though her resolve was obviously weakening.

"I'm not asking you to get pissing-and-fall-down drunk," Sam said, exasperated, "Just to have a few drinks and lighten up. We'll be good, I promise."

In the living room, Mazzy laughed at something Daryl said, and his girlfriend punched him in the arm. Luna glanced at them out of the corner of her eye, biting her lip, then turned back to the irrepressible troublemaker she shared her life with. "If I start drinking, I'm gonna get wasted," She murmured, still unsure, her crossed arms slackening a bit in front of her chest.

"You being a sloppy drunk who can't control herself is _your_ problem," Sam declared. "Now take the drink or I'm gonna make you take it."

Luna wavered for a moment before throwing her hands up in exasperation and taking the glass. "Fine, you pushy bitch," she scolded. There was a gleam in her eye that betrayed her; she wanted the drink all along, she just needed a little prodding. Why, Lincoln didn't know. Maybe being bullied into it made her feel like it wasn't really her choice and gave her an excuse to blame Sam if she did something stupid? His sister wasn't a heavy drinker and had, to the best of Lincoln's knowledge, never done anything outrageous while under the influence. He doubted she expected this time to be any different, but if perchance it was, she had a scapegoat.

Upending the glass, she drank it all at a draught, swiped the back of her hand across her mouth, and let out a crisp _ahhh, _like she was doing a commercial for a soft drink. "There," She said, then broke out in a big, lopsided grin. "I tried to burp but I couldn't." The girl admitted.

Sam took her glass, went over to the counter, and filled it again. "You gotta have _two_ before you can start burping." She held it out and her girlfriend took it with a flourish. Luna slammed it again, then visibly tried to work up a belch, her throat muscles contracting but to no avail. The blonde crossed her arms over her chest. "Wow, fail. What a loser, right, Linc?"

"Embarrassing." He shook his head, "You really let me down, sis."

"Screw you both," Luna laughed.

Sam opened her mouth to reply, but closed it again. Lincoln wasn't the best at reading people, but he thought could see the retort in her eyes as clearly as if it had been written in six foot tall neon lights. Then, just as quickly as it had appeared, he blinked and it was gone again. Lincoln wondered if it was ever actually there, or if the booze was just making him get weird again.

He didn't have much time to dwell on it before someone knocked on the door. Sam finished off her drink and went to answer it while Luna sidled up next to him. "How's it taste?" She asked and motioned to Lincoln's glass with her chin, cradling her own drink. "Sam hocks it to everybody. You'd think she owned stock in the company. I gotta admit, though, she got me hooked."

"It's pretty good," He said truthfully.

"I like it with Fireball," Luna grinned.

The young man recoiled. "Fireball? The cinnamon stuff? Come on, that's way too much."

"Hey," Luna laughed, "Don't knock it 'till you try it. It tastes like a Starbucks Christmas latte or something." She frowned for a moment, nodding seriously. "It'll give you heartburn, though."

He bet. Really, who came up with the idea of cinnamon flavored alcohol? It just _sounded _like a bad idea. Alcohol makes you puke if you drink too much. He imagined puking but instead of kahlua it was pure, burning cinnamon. The thought made him grimace.

A moment later, Sam came back with the new arrival, and Lincoln's jaw nearly dropped. "Chunk?"

Six foot two and 300 pounds of manchester muscle shoved into a vest and newsboy cap, Chester 'Chunk' Monk was the 'roadie' for the band Sam and Luna had in high school. In actuality, he worked as a bouncer for one of the clubs Luna played (by way of special agreement with the owner) when she'd still been an underaged solo act. One night, Luna sprained her ankle on stage and Chunk helped her down and carried her things for her. Somehow, he wound up sticking around. He'd come over to the house once in a while and help her move her amps or load her stuff into the van, and in return, she gave him free food. He was especially fond of their dad's beans and franks, and for two helpings, he'd do pretty much anything. Once he'd even crawled under the house and fixed a broken pipe; Lynn Sr. had kept him in franks for a week after that one.

"Aye, mate," Chunk greeted, a sense of delighted recognition coming over his face halfway through shaking the boy's hand, "Well if it ain't Lincoln bleedin' Loud!" He gave one of his trademark booming laughs. "Been an age, hann'it?" His eyes were hazy and bloodshot and the stench of stale beer rolled off of him in waves, but his easy bearing and kind smile hadn't changed at all. The young man was hit by a nostalgic rush; he was genuinely thrilled to see his old acquaintance, a feeling buoyed by the alcohol now in his system.

"I can't believe it!" Lincoln laughed, clapping him amicably on the shoulder. "How have you been? What have you been up to? I thought you got deported back to the UK!"

Chunk recoiled, not sure if he was kidding. "Where'd you get that idea?"

"Sam told me." He answered innocently.

They both turned to look at the blonde, who offered a sheepish smile. "I may have, you know...been putting you on a little."

"Never happened, mate," Chunk finally shook his head, chuckling. He quickly gave Lincoln his own friendly knock on the arm. "I ain't been back since '09. Place went to shite! They put you in jail for drawin' nudie pictures now, so I've heard." He sighed at the sorry state of his homeland. "You got somethin' to wet me whistle? I drank me last beer on the drive over."

Sam spun on her heels, pressed up onto her tippy toes, and opened a kitchen cabinet. She took something down and handed it to him. It was an oversized can of Guinness. "I saw this and thought of you. There's only one, though, after that you have to drink American stuff."

"Pity," he said dryly. "I've never gotten pissed on Natural Ice or Budweiser."

For some reason, Lincoln didn't believe him.

After Chunk, the others arrived in short order, a veritable garageful of neon haired boys and mohawked girls in studded leather. He was introduced to them one at a time, but the only one Lincoln knew was Tabby, one of Luna's friends from Royal Woods who moved to Deer Park after ninth grade. She and Luna were pretty tight for a while, then Tabby left and Lincoln hadn't seen her since. Watching her come through the door felt almost surreal, another intense wave of nostalgia washing over him; he hadn't even thought of her in years. They all mingled and Sam and his sister lead him around to make the rounds and get to know everyone, but for some time afterwards, his eyes kept going back to the girl because something about her being here, like a misplaced memory, made him dizzy. She was a blast from his past.

"Heyya, Linc," she greeted him with a dazzling smile when he finally made his way over. She'd apparently lived in the States long enough that her original british accent had largely disappeared, and she'd changed her hair from the pixie cut she had as a kid; the youn woman wore it to her shoulders now. Overall she looked just different enough that he wouldn't recognize her if they passed in the street. Once, long ago, Luna set them up on a date, and he remembered being a little apprehensive that she was so much like his older sister in both personality and appearance. He'd wondered if that wouldn't make things weird if they ever dated. Now, he sorely wished to kick himself.

Maybe things would have been different if he wasn't so stupid.

A chasm of loss opened up in the pit of his stomach and he found himself suddenly awash in bitter regret, the buzz he had going leaving him prone to sentimentality. He gave her a tight smile and nod of acknowledgement on his way to the kitchen table, before pouring himself another kahlua and knocking it back in an attempt to preemptively stuff the dark feelings surfacing in his middle. Heck, maybe he could go talk to her and -

No, he shouldn't. She wasn't unattractive, but she wasn't the person she used to be and Lincoln honestly felt no urge to be with her. If she looked like she did when she was younger - short hair, freckles, soft, brown eyes - then he would.

An image of Luna came unbidden to his mind, and he batted it away quickly. He couldn't elude the revelation that came with it, the revelation that he felt the same way for Tabby now that he did then, only in reverse. She reminded him of Luna. At eleven, that left him badly conflicted when placed in a romantic context. Now, today, it excited him instead.

The young man's lips puckered sourly as he nursed his half-empty glass. The awful thoughts and feelings he had at the beginning of the week were beginning to surface again, their journey back to the forefront of his mind facilitated by the booze; he knew if he dwelled on them, he'd soon be right back where he started.

Right where he didn't want to be...where he _couldn't _be.

The partygoers were clustered in the living room with red plastic cups in their hands. Chunk said something and everyone laughed uproariously. They had all been drinking and were starting to get into it. The edges of Lincoln's nerves had softened some but he still didn't feel drunk, or even tipsy. He wondered how much alcohol was in the kahlua. It couldn't be much: while he could kind of detect it at first, all he could taste now was coffee. Sam went over to the stereo system next to the TV, took a CD out, and stuck it into the tray. "Music time," she sang. She pressed the PLAY button and rock drifted from the speakers, to the cheers of the assembled group. All, that was, besides one young man, who, halfway through claiming the band Sam had selected was 'so 90s chart-grunge', got smacked on the back of the head by Chunk.

Lincoln idly looked around the room for Tabby again but found his gaze kept getting drawn to his sister instead: she sat on the arm of the couch with a glass clutched loosely in her hand and laughed so hard at someone's joke that she snorted. Her face glowed like a light in the darkness to him and Lincoln drew a deep, dreamy sigh.

Gritting his teeth when he realized he was staring at her in a decidedly unbrotherly way, he forced his eyes to his glass. It was somehow empty even though he couldn't remember finishing it.

_Softer, her laughter_

_Harder, to see her_

_She's gasping against the horrors_

_Far straight with the mutters_

Someone brushed his arm and he started.

"Cool party, huh?" Sam grinned, squeezing up next to him. He should have guessed.

Lincoln looked away before he could stare at her the way he had Luna. "Uh...yeah, i-it's pretty cool."

"It'd be even cooler if you went and mingled a little," Sam pointed out, amused.

The young man felt put on the spot. "I don't really know anyone," he countered sheepishly.

"You know Mazzy, Chunk, and Tabby," Sam said. "That's, like, a quarter of the people here."

"I don't know them _well_," he protested.

"Then _get _to know them," the blonde insisted. "Unless you like hanging out in the kitchen." She quirked a brow, her hands working to make herself another drink. "Which, I mean, that's cool too. I'll just have to keep you company." Her smile sharpened and a gleam crept into her eye. "You want another drink?"

"I shouldn't..." He hesitated, "I don't wanna get too messed up."

Sam laughed. "Oh, come on, _Luna_," she chided, "Lighten up, huh? You're young...you don't have any obligations tomorrow…'' She presented him with a fresh glass and locked eyes with him. As her baby blue irises bored into his, the vise he felt around his chest every time he was near Sam tightened. "...and you're cute." She winked, "Live a little."

_So half the way there_

_Do you ever care?_

_Do you ever think_

_Suffering on a drink?_

Lincoln darted his eyes between the glass and her face. She waggled her eyebrows suggestively, and for some reason that struck him as so funny he laughed. Sam pressed her lips together to keep from laughing too, but soon gave in and joined him. "Seriously!" She grinned, "Get the stick out of your butt and act your age. You can be lame and dumb when you're older."

"Alright," Lincoln at last succumbed. He took the glass and took a drink. "Happy?"

Sam brushed her teeth across her lower lip. "Hummm...I _will _be."

'_Cuz you're half the way to me_

_Will you ever see?_

_Half the way to Earth_

_Do you feel my worth?_

Time passed and Lincoln had another drink, then another one after that. His senses dulled, warm cotton swaddling his brain, and he started to feel brassy and loose. He had lost track of the music, the words having devolved into meaningless sound that he could only somewhat decipher by around halfway through his fifth glass, and before long he was in the living room talking and laughing along with everybody else. Somehow he eventually found himself off in a corner chatting with Tabby; to his surprise, the longer the evening went, the more drawn to her he was. She brought up the Sadie Hawkins dance and Lincoln groaned. "I spent the whole night running around," he said, "I think I got hurt somehow but I can't remember."

"You kept disappearing," Tabby called him out. "I thought you just didn't like me."

Sam came in from the kitchen with a glass in her hand, sat on Luna's knee, and threw her arm around her shoulder. She pressed the glass into her girlfriend's hand and flashed her a wicked smile. _Go on, _it seemed to say, _drink and be merry. _Luna, engaged in conversation with Rick, took it without a second thought.

_Now_ Lincoln was starting to feel the kahlua, far too late after having already thrown back so many, but the sugar and strong coffee taste had disguised the alcohol until several glasses-worth were already digesting in his stomach. If he kept drinking, he'd cross the line from tipsy into drunk, but crucially, he was _also_ tipsy past the point of caring about that. He felt easy and good and he wanted it to last as long as possible. The young man stood over Sam and Luna, Tabby at his side, and chatted easily with the others, his inhibitions numbed and any self-consciousness from being among strangers long forgotten in the smoky haze. Tabby slammed one glass after another, as if trying to catch up to him; the volume of her voice increased and the latent twinkle he thought he saw in her eye was getting stronger than ever. She brought up the time Principal Huggins split his pants during an assembly, and Lincoln laughed with drunken abandon.

"I'm pretty sure he was wearing a...THONG," Tabby slightly slurred.

"No, he wasn't," Lincoln shook his head, "He was wearing boxers with hearts on them."

She nudged him hard with her elbow and he started to fall over but caught his balance. "You didn't see," she

said thickly, "I did, his cratery butt cheeks haunted my dreams for YEARS."

"They were covered," The boy insisted, "Maybe you imagined they weren't 'cause you really WANTED to see them."

She laughed and shoved him again; this time she stumbled and almost went down, but he grabbed her arm and held her up. She placed a hand on his chest softly to steady herself, then pulled in a little closer to him, smiling. "You're not funny," she lied, "I didn't wanna see his butt. _You _wanted to see his butt."

"Well I'm not the one who dreamed about it." He teased her some more. The booze had now totally smoothed out the rough edges of his nerves; Lincoln felt breezy and nonchalant, even with a cute girl hanging off him.

"She was flicking the bean to it for years," Mazzy interjected.

Tabby spun around and jabbed her finger at the older woman, "Not true, man, that is _not _true."

"What _do _you flick the bean to, then?" Mazzy arched an eyebrow.

"Your mom." The girl shot back.

"So you're that way, huh?" Mazzy stated. She took a drink from her glass and in that moment, she looked so much like the old Kermit the frog drinking tea meme (_but that's none of my business_) that Lincoln laughed.

Tabby shook her head and hooked her arm around Lincoln's shoulder. They both started to fall, and the young man braced his feet against the floor to keep them upright. "I dig chaps," she declared defiantly, "like Landon here."

She turned to look at him as if expecting him to confirm it, and her hot, boozy breath filled his nose. He realized their lips were mere inches apart and his heart jumped painfully into his throat. A leering, pervert grin blossomed across her face when she noticed his expression, and Lincoln briefly felt like a field mouse getting beared down on by a hawk.

"His name's Lincoln, luv," Chunk interjected, startling him out of the spell she had briefly put him under.

"I know that, Chungus," she said, exasperated.

Tabby released the boy and swaggered off to get another drink, and he took a moment to collect himself, realizing only then that his heart was racing. The obvious hunger in her eyes sent ripples through his stomach and all at once, something occurred to him.

Tabby was beautiful.

He didn't notice it at that dance so long ago and he didn't notice it when she first showed up tonight, but she was. Craning his head around, he stared at her; she stood at the kitchen counter, slightly bent, and poured herself some rum, her black hair hanging messily in her face as she hummed happily. Her back was curved, her hips rounded, and her heart-shaped butt stuck gently out as if inviting him to press himself against it.

Perhaps feeling his stare through some sixth sense known and enjoyed only by the female race when there was a boy drooling after them, she lifted her head to meet his gaze. One corner of her mouth turned up in a knowing smile, and a tight band closed around Lincoln's lungs.

He didn't notice how beautiful she was...he also didn't notice how much she actually still looked like Luna.

"You want a drink?" She asked.

Lincoln was dimly aware that he was gaping at her, and forced himself to look away. "Yeah, sure," he said.

She poured a glass for him and set the bottle aside. Tabby turned, leaning her elbow against the counter, her long legs crossing as her grin sharpened. "You gonna come get it?" She asked.

Unless he was imagining things, there was a seductive, come-hither lilt to her voice that even a virgin like him couldn't mistake. Her eyes darted up and down his body, the girl clicking her tongue appreciatively; Lincoln lost himself to the queer heat he felt Tabby's leer stoke within him, and in response to her seeming challenge leered at her right back. His eyes took in the long, alluring legs her faded, low-rise jeans clung to, the top of her hips peeking out between the denim and the fabric of the mauve Aquasmith camisole she wore, continuing up as she yawned and pretended to stretch the shirt rode up to expose her smooth, tight navel, her bellybutton piercing gleaming enticingly. Lincoln's gaze continued up, up, over her modest but perky breasts, until it finally landed on the smooth line of her jaw and the ridges of her collarbone peeking out from over the top of her shirt, mind drifting pleasantly as he pictured himself peppering urgent kisses over her creamy flesh, the tang of salt from her skin on his lips. Something within him stirred.

Normally, he might tuck his tail between his legs and scamper away, but right now, he was filled with liquid courage and vibing on the energy of the party, the friendly laughter, the slow, sultry music, and the look she was giving him. He breathed easy, owning the moment like spare change in his pocket, and glided over, picking up his glass and leaning his back against the edge of the counter as casual as could be. "Thanks,'" he said and took a sip. Slimy, warm rum splashed down his throat and burned all the way to his stomach. He grimaced and let out a grunt.

Tabby laughed. "Too strong for you?"

Yes, it was way too strong for him.

Of course, he wouldn't say that. "It's alright." He shook his head.

"There's only one reason to drink," The girl said, "And you're not gonna get there unless you _drink_." She lifted her own glass to her lips. Her dark eyes sparkled over the rim like mysterious galaxies, uncharted but inviting. She tilted the glass back, and Lincoln's gaze went to her delicate neck once more. A silver chain lay slack against her pale skin, a Celtic cross nestled in the hollow of her throat, and when she moved, it glimmered in the light.

She sat her glass down, propped her elbow on the counter, and ran her fingers through her hair with a sigh. Lincoln had read somewhere that a girl touching her hair while she talked to you meant that she liked you. He didn't know if that was true or not. In that moment he hoped it was.

Neither one immediately spoke, and Lincoln shifted his weight from one foot to the other like a man figuring out an angle of attack. "I like your necklace," he finally offered.

She glanced down at her chest and pinched the cross between her thumb and forefinger. "Yeah, it's an..." She hesitated; it seemed to hold a special meaning to her. "An Irish cross."

"It's cool," Lincoln said, pretending he didn't already know that. "Are you Irish?"

Tabby shook her head. "Nah, man, it's Bleak Advent. Like, their symbol."

"You like Advent?" He asked. Cool people, people in the know, never called that band by its full name, only Advent. Luna had told him that, so he trusted it without question.

Tabby nodded. "Yeah, it's my favorite band." She tucked her chin against her chest and lifted her eyebrows. "You'd know that if you danced with me that night instead of faffing off."

He laughed. "Hey, I didn't even wanna be there. I only went because all of my sisters made me go with their friends."

"You dick." The girl chastised him playfully. "Luna told me…" Tabby slammed the rest of her drink and let out a refreshed sigh, "She told me _dude, my little brother's down because he can't get a date to this dance. You gotta go with him._"

Lincoln laughed. "That's a lie! I wasn't even planning to go. You know why I-" He paused, but gave a mental shrug. "-faffed off?" She quirked a brow and Lincoln finally spilled the beans to her about what had happened that night. "I was ducking this one girl 'cause I thought she wanted me to go with her, but I had to act like it was that she hadn't asked me out because my oldest sister was dating her brother and, you know, I didn't want any trouble." He sighed. "But then I got home and a bunch of my sisters were like _we set you up on dates with Tabby, Haiku, Polly, Giggles _and...another one, I think?" He honestly couldn't remember if there were any other girls involved. Seeing through the mist in his brain was hard, especially when it was something that happened, like, ten years ago. Lincoln paused to mutter the comment 'there sure were a lot of you' under his breath, which drew a bark of laughter from Tabby. There HAD a lot of them, he remembered that much, but the only one he'd always recalled clearly was her. He idly wondered why that was. "I tried to come clean then but they weren't having it. I pretty much had no choice after that."

The girl seemed tickled after finding out the truth. "She said you needed a date and she told me _he's really cute, you'll like him_." She smirked.

Lincoln smiled coyly. Luna said he was cute?

"And you know what?" Tabby asked and leaned in.

"What?" Lincoln asked back.

"_She was right._"

In the living room, Luna clutched her drink and stared into the kitchen with bated breath. Lincoln and Tabby were standing really close to one another and had been for what seemed like an eternity.

She hadn't really noticed just how well they were getting along when it had first started. At the beginning of the party everyone had been piled into the living room, talking and joking together, and she didn't think Tabby picking a spot next to her brother was a big deal. Even when she started horsing around with him, Luna still didn't sweat it; she knew that's just how Tabby was with people she felt comfortable with. The two had ended up peeling away from the main party together later and she assumed they were off somewhere catching up, same as Lincoln did with Chunk earlier that night; after all, the last time they'd seen each other was years ago and there was a lot for them to talk about with everything that had changed in their lives since then. All of these were reasonable things to assume, she had told herself at the time. There was no reason to freak out.

As time passed, though, and Tabby and Lincoln didn't rejoin them, a faint but very real sense of anxiousness started welling up in the pit of Luna's stomach, like a premonition. Perhaps it was her womanly instincts putting together what was going on before her distracted, conscious mind did, but in any case, that was the point she couldn't help but start actively paying attention to what the two were up to. She knew she was being paranoid and goofy, and she'd never suspected in a million years she'd be the type to go stalker on anyone, but for some reason the disquiet within her kept growing as she kept glancing at Lincoln's back over in the kitchen from her place on the couch. Luna just couldn't help herself, unable to shake off her funny feeling. At last he moved, and she suddenly caught a flash of Tabby's face past Lincoln's shoulder. What she glimpsed there made the bottom feel like it had fallen out of her stomach; in her friend's eyes Luna saw, obvious and unmistakable to her, desire. _Carnal intent_. Her heart suddenly thumped hard against her ribcage, and horror threatened to blossom in the center of the young woman's chest. A sudden hideous revelation took hold of her as she realized her inexplicable dread earlier had been her subconscious warning her, trying to get Luna to stop being in denial and acknowledge what was actually happening between Lincoln and her old friend. To open her eyes.

She had waited too long.

That was the terrible thought she'd immediately had upon seeing the look Tabby was giving her brother, and which kept repeating over and over in her mind. _She had waited too long._

Sam had pushed her, encouraged her, given her opportunity after opportunity to let Lincoln know how she felt and made conditions as favorable for her as she could to do so. If it was ever going to be the right moment, this week had been it. She could have made her move at the museum, at the restaurant afterwards, heck, even that morning when they were spending time together. Now it was too late. Luna's mind, already stressed by everything that had happened, instantly jumped to the worst possible conclusion: someone had finally seen in Lincoln what _she _saw, and she was going to take him away from her.

Acid bubbled in her stomach; the sensation of having something taken from her she hadn't even gotten to at least first _possess_ was intense and sickening.

Though most of the time it bothered her, there was indeed a small part of Luna, a part she didn't like to acknowledge existed but that was definitely there, that _liked_ that her brother didn't have good luck with girls. She was aware of how selfish and pathetic it was to take comfort in something she knew caused Lincoln grief, but she couldn't help it. It gave her hope. Hope that maybe...maybe he'd be desperate. That maybe if he really thought he couldn't get anyone else, he'd at least entertain the idea of entering a relationship with her, his own sister. It was an ugly notion, and a stupid one besides, she knew it would never actually work out like that, but it was still often the only scenario she could imagine of an actual romance between them happening that her cynical heart would allow had any possibility to it whatsoever. It was important to her, even if only because it let her fantasize about a world in which they were together without her jadedness reminding her it could never happen.

But now even that was gone. Tabby was fun and pretty, and most importantly, NOT Lincoln's sibling. That was the handle. It wasn't that Luna was insecure, this wasn't some hurdle of self-esteem or worry she wasn't good enough for him. Luna had confidence in herself, most of the time. It wasn't about her looks or even her personality. They were brother and sister. The relation they shared was the thing she believed he would never be able to get past unless he had literally no other choice.

And now he did. So why would Lincoln even consider looking to her anymore?

The young woman was suddenly gripped, powerfully and all at once, by the full horde of her inner demons. Dammit. _Dammit._ Why didn't she act sooner? Why couldn't she just grow a pair and tell him how she felt? The whole time he'd been here, she had been trying little by little to pump herself up to do it, but every time push came to shove, she crumbled and backed down. She kept putting it off and telling herself that she still had time, he wasn't leaving for four days, then three days, then two. Time ticked away and still Luna held out hope that she would magically find the guts to tell her brother she was in love with him. It never happened.

And now it was over.

Back in the kitchen, Lincoln and Tabby chatted and drank. He'd been wrong to just look at her appearance. The more he actually learned about her, the more she reminded him of Luna, and the more he found that didn't bother him one little bit: the way her face lit up when she talked about music, her playful and easygoing nature, the way she still said certain words with her old british accent. In less than twenty minutes, he was as comfortable talking to her as he was a longtime friend and with every passing moment, he liked her just a little more.

As time passed, he and Tabby's conversation turned flirtier, while at the other end of the room Luna, unbeknownst to him, slowly became less present, less interested in the party around her. She was still trying to pretend everything was alright, but her fake smile still faltered just a bit every time she heard Tabby giggle behind her, her words would still hang every time she turned to answer someone's question and happened to see the young woman giving her brother another casual touch on the shoulder. Soon enough Luna reached her breaking point; she took a break from mingling with her friends and found a seat on the edge of the couch, clutching a drink tight between her folded hands and sipping at it sullenly every so often. Being forced to stand by helplessly and watch the boy she'd been pining for her whole life get stolen away, in the middle of a party in her very own apartment and surrounded by all her friends, was like a nightmare with a soundtrack. Though in the middle of a crowd, she was well and truly alone; all around her everybody she knew continued to laugh and joke, having a terrific time, completely oblivious to the unreal misery she was experiencing.

All of them, that was, aside from one.

After having another drink, Tabby excused herself to go to the bathroom, and Lincoln watched her walk away, his eyes nakedly on her butt. He was so caught up in the show that he didn't realize he wasn't alone until Sam brushed against his arm. "Heeeey, Linc," she purred, though there was an urgency to her tone that hadn't been there before.

"Hey." He turned to her and smiled, and his uncharacteristic ease when doing so left her hesitating.

"I see you made a new friend." Sam probed.

Lincoln shrugged, but it was difficult to hide his growing excitement, the real chemistry he sensed between him and Tabby. "We've been talking," he tried to play off his obvious interest.

She arched her brow and for some reason he couldn't name, Lincoln felt like she was wordlessly accusing him of doing something wrong. "That's...nice," she said, her voice trailing off. Sam seemed to consider what to do for a moment before stepping forward and lightly pressing herself against his arm, looking up at him with a smug, sinful little smirk. He could distinctly feel the shape of her breasts, and when she laid her hand on his chest, his back stiffened. "I hope you don't like her more than you like me." She offered, and though she tried to sound nonchalant when she did, inside she was more than a little nervous.

Sam and Luna's mutual friend Tabby being so into Lincoln was a wrench in her plans that she hadn't been expecting, despite her teasing him about the possibility of it earlier that day. In fact, the blonde had been planning to run interfence in case he really did catch one of their friends' fancy, but it felt like she'd only looked away for a second and by the time she looked back the two of them were already practically making out! Sam was worried badly for her girlfriend's emotional state having to sit there and watch the pair flirt like they were the only two people in the world, and even more worried over the nascent feeling she had that throwing this party in the first place might have well been one giant fuck-up on her part. She knew if they actually ended up hooking up it would be a disaster, and all her fault to boot. Sam had asked her girlfriend to trust her, and under her confident exterior she was panicking that she'd betrayed that trust and let her down. She knew how much Luna's brother meant to her. The blonde was fretting that she'd ruined something the woman she loved held dear; that in her lust-crazed haste to push them closer, she'd instead only created one more obstacle to keep them apart.

Lincoln flashed her a questioning smile, confused by what it was she was actually asking. He looked to Luna for help, but his sister wasn't paying attention; she was off in a corner of the room, staring down at the floor, looking utterly disconsolate as she rubbed the rim of her glass with her thumb. The sight made Lincoln's heart twinge hard enough to sober him up a bit.

He didn't have much time to think about it before Sam laid her palm flat on his chest and pushed up on her tippy toes. Their eyes were level now, her breath tickling his lips and the smell of booze filling his nostrils. "You

_don't_ like her more than you like me, do you?" She demanded with a playful edge to her voice, trying to hide the apprehension she was feeling.

All Lincoln could do was shake his head helplessly. He didn't know if he liked Tabby more than he did Sam, but Tabby reminded him of Luna, and he _did _like that. It was complicated...

"Good," she said, relieved.

A few minutes later, Tabby came back and the blonde floated away with one last cautioning look over her shoulder. She raised her brows as if admonishing him to behave, and he offered back a wan, puzzled grin. Regardless, Sam would keep her distance. She knew it was too late to get between the two now. After what she'd said that morning, she was afraid that if she tried to drag her friend away using some excuse the boy would see right through her intention and ask her some questions she wasn't prepared to answer. Not yet.

All she could do now was keep her fingers crossed. Keep her fingers crossed and have some faith in Lincoln Loud.

"Miss me?" Tabby asked him with a teasing smile.

"I didn't even notice you were gone," he said honestly. He didn't mean to, it just slipped out; it was exactly what he would have said to Luna.

She grinned and rammed her elbow into his arm, but soon afterwards let her body follow it to lean herself against him. "Ass."

For the rest of the night, they hung out in the kitchen and talked. Time seemed to fly. At one point a song came on that Tabby claimed she loved and she pushed him to slow dance with her; Lincoln didn't really know how to, but the girl swayed against him all the same and when his hands drifted down to hold her by her hips, she purred. At that point, some unseen pressure he couldn't explain moved him to glance out over the living room; when he did, he caught Luna spying on the two out of the corner of her eye. The expression she wore, though she tried somewhat to conceal it, was one that screamed pain and betrayal. Was he just being paranoid? Regardless, the sight made his stomach clench with guilt and he didn't understand exactly why. He wasn't doing anything wrong!

...Was he?

Eventually, the party at last began to wind down. Mazzy was the first to leave, grousing bitterly that she had to work that morning, then thanking Sam for the invite and promising she'd throw the next bash. She was soon followed by Daryl, Rick, and what's-her-name, with the rest leaving intermittently, a few at a time. In the aftermath red solo cups, some empty and others half-filled, dotted the kitchen counter, the coffee table, and the top of the stereo and stray chips, crumpled napkins, and chicken bones littered the floor. Luna came into the kitchen, eyes staring straight ahead, as though she refused to acknowledge the two's presence, and the atmosphere immediately became heavier, like she was dragging the weight of the world in with her.

"It was nice...it was nice seeing you again," Tabby said as she pushed off from him gently, and the young man found himself deeply missing her warmth. The girl had sobered up a bit since earlier. She hesitated, then smiled to herself and ran her fingers through her hair. "You, uh...it's kinda dangerous out there. You wanna walk me home?"

The look in her eyes let him know that she had a lot more planned than just walking.

This was it, the moment of truth. Lincoln sensed her expectation, the quiet excitement in her voice. It was the question he'd been waiting for the entire night. Hadn't he, that very morning in fact, ginned himself up, promising that he was going to start taking more chances and putting himself out there? That he wasn't going to leave his own sick hangups for his sweet, blameless sister to deal with? Now here was his chance to make good on that. Tabby was a genuinely great girl, one who he really liked and who he was pretty sure liked him back, and she was asking him to go home with her. It was exactly what he'd been asking the universe for.

So then why was he feeling so guilty?

He tried to calm his inexplicable misgivings by fantasizing about what might happen if he agreed and his own mind filled in the blanks, extending this evening they'd shared off into the future. He'd walk her to her apartment building. She'd invite him in using some excuse he'd which he'd pretend to believe. They'd spend the night together. It'd be good. The morning after they'd trade phone numbers, meet again, and eventually start dating. He would finally set down all the emotional baggage he'd been carrying over Ronnie Anne, stop creeping on Sam, stop thinking about his sister as anything more than his sister and have a normal, good, healthy, exciting relationship with this girl he was so into.

It was all there, waiting for him. All he had to do begin that adventure was say that one simple word: 'yes'.

And then, for some reason, he glanced back at Luna. She was pouring herself another drink, a stiff one this time by the looks of it. Her eyes were red and watery and she seemed like she was genuinely about to cry. Lincoln couldn't remember the last time he remembered her looking so miserable. His stomach twisted, squeezing so painfully it made him wince.

Lincoln shut his eyes. A distressingly familiar feeling surged up within him, one that had been rare recently but which he'd experienced all the time back when he still lived at home with all his siblings. He tried to fight it, that urge to do what came so naturally to him then, tried to live up to the promise he'd made to himself to make the effort to change. He really, really did, for Luna's sake as well as his own...but after a brief yet intense struggle, he knew instinctively it was useless. He couldn't do anything about the kind of guy he was.

"..._I can't_." He at last forced the answer past his lips. The boy's breath hitched with disappointment before he finally released it one long, drawn-out sigh, his body deflating with it even as the pain in his stomach instantly eased at his refusal. He opened his eyes again to look at Tabby sadly. "I have to help them clean up and stuff."

Luna froze mid-pour.

Bafflement flickered across Tabby's face. "O-oh." She faltered. "Well, maybe some other time...?" The girl asked hopefully.

"Maybe," he said and forced a smile.

The two chatted for a bit longer before sharing an awkward goodbye hug, and that was it. Lincoln watched her walk away, and as he did he could see all those sunny, pleasant visions of their future together he'd enjoyed earlier evaporate into nothing the moment she stepped out of Luna and Sam's apartment without him. At that moment, the young man was suddenly deeply certain he was going to die alone. He sighed again, wiping at his face with his hand, and took the opportunity to wallow in his self-pity like a pig in mud.

Lincoln was only snapped out of his melancholy by the murmur that came from his side. "Why'd you do that?" Luna asked quietly, having found a place next to him. She still wasn't looking him in the eye, instead stacking empty glasses into the sink as though it was only an idle question, as though what had almost just happened was no big deal to her rather than a vision that would haunt her dreams forever. "How come you didn't go with Tabbs? She was probably going to lay you, you know..."

A pang of regret rippled through Lincoln, but he shook his head. "Maybe," he said, then turned to look at her over his shoulder. "But you looked upset and-" The young man hesitated, "You're more important."

It was true. That was the inevitable cause for his refusal, the one eternal detail about himself that no amount of internal pep talks or solemn self-help vows were ever going to change. In the end, it didn't matter how old Lincoln got, how much he drank, or how sexy the girl showing an interest in him was: deep down he was still that same eleven year old kid who would always put his sisters' needs ahead of his own. Luna was obviously hurting, and he couldn't find it in him to leave her to suffer over whatever it was that had her down just because Tabby had invited him to walk her home, even if it WAS for the good of their relationship in the long run. No, Lincoln could never simply go off and be happy while one of his sisters wasn't. It just wasn't something he had the ability to do. The young man smiled mirthlessly.

He was what he was.

Luna's hand paused midway through reaching for a cup. For a moment she just turned to look at him, dazed, then, as his words sank into her addled brain, a huge grin suddenly bloomed over her face, radiant enough it almost made his eyes sting. "Yeah?" she asked, one of the corners of her lips curling up in a smile so wide it exposed a canine.

"Yeah," he confirmed with a defeated laugh at her reaction. She was. He shook his head. "So what's wrong, anyway?" Lincoln asked gently, shuffling a bit closer to her side.

His sister couldn't help but tremble at the tenderness and concern she heard in his voice, unable to bring herself to meet Lincoln's eyes. She hesitated for a moment. "...S'nothin'," Luna finally slurred, either from drunkenness or a sudden onset of emotion he couldn't tell, turning away from him to hide her face. Normally he might be miffed that she was still being so mysterious even after he'd made such a sacrifice, but curiously, it didn't really bother him too much right then. The two just stared off into the living room together, watching the guests leave. Lincoln was surprised when he all of a sudden felt his big sister hugging his arm, but smiled all the same; he responded by pulling her closer. The young man relished in the simple, innocent intimacy of the embrace, the sublime warmth and comfort that came from just being there with his favorite person in the world and holding her close without having to say a thing. Luna gathered her courage before at last laying her head on her brother's shoulder and grabbing his hand to lace her fingers between his.

The feeling he'd gotten when he was with Tabby came rushing back, only it was sharper now, more intense. To his surprise, he didn't worry that it was his sister causing it this time. It was fine, he decided. Just for now, it was fine.

"Nothing's wrong," Luna murmured again, smiling against his skin as she fought not to let the tears glimmering in the corners of her eyes fall and ruin the perfect moment with the boy she loved.

She meant it.


	14. The Seduction of Lincoln Loud

The two eventually drifted back into the living room and started picking up the mess Sam and Luna's friends had left behind. Chunk was the last to go: he slumped against the arm of the couch in a semi-stupor and rubbed his bleary eyes with thumbs as big as Hebrew National hotdogs. "You cool to drive?" Sam asked suspiciously.

"Aye," he assured her, "Might forget where I am and drive on the left though." He got up, swayed, and dropped back down onto his butt.

"Yeeeaaah," Sam stretched the word, unconvinced, "I'm gonna get you an Uber."

Lincoln sat next to his older sister on the couch and rubbed his temples, which were starting to ache a little. Luna hung off of him happily; after their talk she'd turned quite a bit more physically affectionate. She was still donning a big, goofy smile and for the last ten minutes had been trying to pressure him to extend his stay for a few more days. "You okay, bro?" She suddenly asked, getting way up close in his face, "You're lookin' a little drunk."

"Takes one to know one," He muttered, wincing from how strong the alcohol smell on her breath was.

"Yeah!" Luna laughed, seeming to find the idea hilarious. She backed off and her voice came out as a high squeak. "You're right! I'm drunk!" His sister's irrepressible bubbliness made him chuckle; Lincoln liked to see her happy even more than he hated to see her sad. He pressed the crown of his head against the side of hers and gently pushed her with it when she started letting her body slump over his, and in response she just giggled and clung stubbornly to his shoulder. He really liked how warm she was. All at once, Lincoln was struck by how genuinely satisfied and content he felt in that instant, how he was suddenly so sure there was truly nowhere else he'd rather be, and no one else he'd rather be with. The brief but intense surge of love for his sister he experienced was the kind that would have disquieted him if he was sober, but he didn't fight it. The boy still felt rather raw emotionally from all the booze and his ill-fated, half-formed connection with Tabby, so he just let it wash over him as he drank in the moment. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and squeezed and in response the rocker merely hummed happily, eyes shut and smiling.

After she'd finally managed to escort Chunk out of their apartment, Sam came back into the living room and plopped onto the floor with a weary sigh. "This place is a mess," she said, daunted by the bedlam of cups, cans and paper plates their friends had left them to clean up. Still, there was no rancor in her tone, the girl far too pleased about how she'd narrowly avoided disaster to let a bit of houseguest thoughtlessness bother her. Sam had been _intensely_ relieved upon seeing Tabby leave alone, so much so that in her exhilaration she almost hadn't noticed how touchy-feely the siblings had suddenly become. Almost. For now, though, she didn't comment on it, afraid she'd make them self-conscious and disturb whatever wonderful spell had come over the two.

"S'fine," Luna said, in a good mood. She got up, stumbled over, and sat down across from her girlfriend, giggling when she nearly tripped. "Timberrr," she warned. Sam swatted her behind playfully and Lincoln laughed.

In the confusion of the party and meeting all those new people earlier, Lincoln had to admit that he hadn't really taken in his sister or Sam too closely before getting distracted once all their colorful friends had started pouring in. It was only now that he even really noticed the way the two were dressed. Luna's inimitable style was, as usual, on full display; she was wearing a pair of torn up jeans she'd salvaged into quasi-daisy dukes and a tatty (though he was sure she'd defend it to the death as 'vintage') Mick Swagger t-shirt from his 2012 Hoppin' Mack Smash tour, along with a colorful jangle of bracelets on her wrist of local indie bands, most of whose members she was on a first name basis with. No shoes; the brunette liked to go barefoot in her own apartment, even when she had company over. He found his eyes tracing up her bare, slim legs appreciatively but quickly shook it off. No real makeup either, but then, she didn't need it; just the usual purple eyeshadow that made her big, bright eyes seem even bigger. Sam, by contrast, had dressed up for the event, at least compared to her girlfriend: she sported a bootleg 'Mucho Man' Sandy Ravage tank top, hip-hugging flannel skirt, black leggings, boots she was currently in the process of kicking off and her old blued leather jacket that still just barely fit, though its sleeves ended halfway down her forearms nowadays. All in all the girls were flashing a look that made him feel desperately lame in comparison, but that didn't bother him much. Lincoln knew he had had many gifts; good fashion sense was not one of them.

They sat there like that for a while, simply basking in the pleasant, comfortable vibes. The two girls gossiped about the big news that night, filling Lincoln in on anything he'd missed out on; Mazzy's new tattoo, Rick giving up his vegetarianism, and how Chunk had let it slip that he was planning to propose to his long-term girlfriend. They joked and chatted happily, Sam ever mindful to avoid bringing up the subject of Tabby, and soon enough half an hour passed in which the three soused, directionless young adults talked about everything and nothing at all.

At last, Lincoln leaned back on the couch and rubbed the back of his neck, sighing. His face felt hot and his head was swimming. A smirk tugged at Sam's lips; the blonde knew she'd softened him up over the course of the evening with all that kahlua. She'd made sure to keep refilling his glass for a reason, after all, and chose a deceptively mild liquor to do so with for the same purpose. She was certain a straight-laced nineteen year old non-drinker like Lincoln would trust the taste too much and end up throwing it back like it was light beer, and that was precisely what she'd been hoping for. He'd consumed far more alcohol than he ordinarily would have because of that. Everything had been carefully arranged; the party had been the perfect chance to sidestep the guard he'd been keeping up around her lately and get him hammered and now that she had succeeded, unbeknownst to Luna, Sam decided that the time had at last come to stick the final lance into the surprisingly resilient bull that was Lincoln Loud's self-restraint.

"C'mere, Linc," She called after him coquettishly.

Luna looked at her with a bit of curiosity, but, shrugging, decided to simply go with it; she extended her hand and beckoned him over with a finger. "Yeah, bro, party's over here now."

Ugh, more partying? The boy shook his head. He just wanted to go to bed...

Finally, he managed to get up, stagger over, and fall on his ass between them. The blonde couldn't help but mutter wryly on how alike he and Luna were and her girlfriend stuck her tongue out at her, laughing. They were in a circle, Sam to his right and his sister to his left. Sam subtly crossed her legs, reached into her jacket, and brought something out. Lincoln squinted to make out what it was more clearly. A cigarette.

She put it between her lips, lit it, and inhaled sharply. The warm scent found his nose, making it crinkle. No, not a cigarette.

A joint.

"You're holding?" Luna asked.

"Yup." Sam said tightly, barely exhaling. "Ralph hooked me up. He says it's a real mellow strain. I thought it'd be the perfect way to end the night..." She held the smoke for a few more seconds, then coughed.

"My turn, dude," Luna grinned. She rocked forward on her knees, then toppled over; screaming, she threw her arms out, catching herself on the floor just before she could crash into it.

"Jeez, babe," Sam teased, "I don't know if you should have this, you're already pretty wasted."

"Fuck you, I'm not wasted!" The young woman protested, "See?" Luna opened her eyes as wide as she could and pointed to them, as if that proved anything.

The blonde shook her head, chuckling. "Tsk, tsk, tsk, drunk as a skunk." She handed the joint over anyway and Luna took a hit, smug from getting her way, before instinctively passing it on to her left to Lincoln. He stared down at it for a moment uneasily, not sure he wanted to get even more intoxicated. Luna noticed his discomfort and winced, shaking out of her stupor a bit as she realized what she was doing. She started to pull it back but Sam reached out and grabbed her wrist, holding it in place, before looking at Lincoln.

"What's the matter?" Sam arched a brow, "Don't tell me you're a _square_, daddy-o." She smiled, doing her best to imitate the stereotypical hoodlum character one might see in a bible-camp student play about the dangerous criminal underworld of _marijuana_.

"H-he doesn't have to smoke if he doesn't want to..." Luna defended him sheepishly. Lincoln gave a wry grin; having his big sister take up for him the way she was was both touching and emasculating.

"No way." Sam shook her head. "Lunes, I think your brother might be a cop." She gave him a suspicious look. "Toke up, Lincoln. Prove you're not a narc."

The young man chuckled, finally taking the joint from Luna's hand just so Sam would stop razzing him. What the hell. It was his last night there anyway. How much trouble could he really get into in one evening that was already winding down?

He took a quick, experimental drag; the smoke was harsh in his lungs and he could only hold it for a moment before choking. Sam and Luna both laughed with the kind of merriment that could only come from being a bad influence on an innocent boy and he flushed with embarrassment.

"You ever smoke weed, Linc?" Sam finally asked between titters, taking the joint back.

"Not really..." He admitted.

"I figured." She hummed, "I swear Lincoln, your real dad is a Norman Rockwell painting. What nineteen year old hasn't tried pot nowadays?" Sam smirked, and his blush got deeper. She loved it. He was just too easy to play with; their cute little boytoy. She shook her head. "Nah, I'm just messing with you. To be honest we don't blaze it that often either, but it's a special occasion, so what the hey?" The blonde took a long pull, held it, then passed it to Luna who, after doing the same, passed it to her brother again.

This cycle repeated several times. Eventually, around his fourth or fifth turn, Lincoln began to sink into a fog as the world took on a pleasant, gossamer sheen, like the soft-focus dream sequences in 1950's movies where a man fantasizes he's being tended to by nubile young harem girls. "You guys wanna play a game?" He thought he heard Sam ask; to his increasingly addled senses her voice seemed like it was coming from very far away.

Luna planted her elbow into her knee and rested her chin in her upturned palm. "What game?" She humored her.

Sam smirked. "Truth or dare."

"What are you, twelve?" Luna laughed.

The blonde pouted cutely. "I would have said spin the bottle but what if your moooom came home?" She mocked. "Truth or dare is a perfectly respectable game for three sexy twentysomethings to play."

Lincoln swallowed. His mouth was dry and cottony. He tried to get up to get a drink but his head started to spin and he fell back down again. The girls ignored him.

"'You're lame," Luna declared.

"Hush, you." Sam would tolerate no further aspersions on her choice of entertainment. "I go first," She announced, overruling her girlfriend. "And I pick dare."

Was that even how you played, Lincoln wondered, gripped as he was by the marijuana haze. He was a THC virgin and the impact the shared blunt was having on him could be euphemistically described as 'non-trivial'. The party hat he still had on from all the kahlua wasn't making regaining his bearings any easier either. Anyway, he really didn't know; he'd never taken part in a game of truth or dare before. He and his friends had never been the type to hit those kinds of parties as teenagers. Was Sam right, he wondered? Was his real dad a Norman Rockwell painting? He frowned self-consciously.

Luna considered for a moment, then said, "I dare you to stop being lame."

"You want me to be more like you?" Sam asked.

"Yes," Luna agreed, "The cool one."

"That's easy," Sam promptly crossed her eyes, stuck out her tongue and curled her hand against her chest. "'Look at me, I'm Luna, dur, dur, dur, I pretend I'm too mature to play truth or dare even though I do the maze on the back of the cereal box every morning~'"

"Hey!" Luna blushed. Lincoln couldn't help bursting out in laughter. "Screw both you jerks," She growled. "My turn! 'Look, I'm Sam, I dye my tips blue and pre-rip my jeans with scissors before going to concerts, aren't I _sooooo_ scene?'" She held her hand up and swished it like she was flouncing.

"Okay, okay, I think we're getting on the wrong track here," Sam offered a truce. "Luna, I _dare _you to kiss me."

Luna scoffed, but couldn't help but smile. "As if you had dare me to do that."

She rocked forward on her knees again and Sam did likewise. Their smirking lips met for what was at first a relatively restrained, playful kiss, but, to Luna's surprise, it soon escalated into a long, drawn out snogging at Sam's wordless insistence, with her sucking on Luna's bottom lip and the brunette half-moaning as she felt her girlfriend's hands squeeze her thighs and begin creeping up her side. Lincoln looked away uncomfortably, feeling flush from the sudden show. The boy _really_ wished they wouldn't do that in front of him. It made him feel weird.

And jealous.

Sam at last pulled back and grinned. Luna seemed dazed at the unexpected intensity of the kiss, absently gulping down a bit of saliva that wasn't her own. The blonde chuckled as she ran her fingers through her girlfriend's short hair, caressing her affectionately while Luna blushed. "Isn't she beautiful, Linc...?" He didn't answer, merely continuing to analyze the pattern on their carpet to try and calm himself down. "It's your turn, by the way." She asked, turning to him.

Lincoln missed a beat, then shifted. He didn't see Luna narrow her eyes suspiciously at Sam, nor did he see said troublemaking blonde's self-satisfied grin.

"...Truth." He finally replied. Neither one was especially appealing, but he knew he'd have to be crazy to put himself at Sam's mercy for a dare.

She, for her part, seemed to have already had her question picked out. "D'you think Luna's pretty?"

"Yes." He answered a bit too quickly, but caught himself just as fast, "I mean, I guess," He shifted again awkwardly. It didn't go unnoticed.

"You _guess_?" She asked, amused. "What, you think she's a dog?"

"No!" Lincoln denied it instantly, "I mean..." He sighed, "Yeah, she's hot. I just, you know, she's my sister..." The boy laughed nervously. "I never really looked at her that way."

He didn't realize until he had spoken the denial that it was a lie. He _had _looked at her that way, and not just over the past couple days either. There were times when he was younger, particularly when he was first afflicted by the dreadful curse of puberty, that he caught himself staring at the delicate curve of her jaw, her cute little nose, her soft-looking lips, and her soulful brown eyes and hating himself for the deviant stirring they caused in the pit of his stomach. But puberty was crazy for everybody. It didn't mean anything, he had assured himself at the time. Ten years later, he continued to choose to believe that.

Sam must have suspected something. "Oh, don't give me that. You grew up around a ton of pretty girls and you never had thoughts about them?" She quirked a brow suspiciously.

Lincoln recoiled at the deeply awkward personal question. He could feel Sam and Luna's scrutinizing gazes on him like two hot spotlights. Luna watched him with what seemed like a mixture of bashfulness and suppressed expectation and Sam with very evident delight. A flush spread across Lincoln's face and he shrugged one shoulder. "No," he said.

"It'd be natural if you did," Sam assured him gently, patting his lap. She gave him a comforting squeeze that made his back stiffen in apprehension, though he was far too messed up to come up with any sort of excuse to extricate himself from the situation regardless of how uncomfortable he was starting to feel. "Sister or not, when you're a kid and your hormones are going crazy, a nice body's a nice body."

Luna was blushing now too. She looked like she wanted to say something but was too afraid of bringing attention to herself to speak.

"No, I never looked at them like that," Lincoln insisted firmly, thankful his voice didn't crack under the weight of the lie. He crossed his arms defensively, praying she'd drop it before he admitted to anything that would make his sister realize, correctly, that her little brother was nothing but a dirty pervert.

"Oh come on..." The blonde paused for a moment before an idea ocurred to her. She turned to her girlfriend. "Luna, truth or dare. Pick truth."

Luna seemed startled. "Uhh...truth?"

Sam gave a cheshire grin. "When you were a kid, did you ever look at your sisters 'that way'?"

Luna was stunned. Her blush got even hotter, her voice going small and quiet. " Dude, c'mon..." She hesitated, but noticed that Sam appeared to be trying to communicate something to her with her eyes. The rocker realized what she was after and sighed with resignation, shutting her eyes. "...Yeah. When I was eleven I hid in Lori's closet and peeked in on her changing." She whirled about to face Lincoln. "It was just one time, okay? I was really confused back then about whether I liked boys or girls and Lori was the oldest and her boobs had just come in, and I just-"

Sam interrupted her, giving Lincoln a smile, "See? It's not a big deal at all." She turned to her girlfriend, "Lori's the leggy blonde, right? Huh. I guess you have a type, babe."

Lincoln himself was struck speechless by his sister's admission, his imagination, overstimulated from the weed, instantly conjuring the scene: a young Luna, her body wracked by all kinds of changes and experiencing confusing new emotions, crouching down and holding her breath so as not to be discovered. She'd peek at their eldest sibling through the slats on the closet door as the oblivious teen stripped off her clothes, perhaps humming a tune, totally unaware of the boiling cauldron of youthful excitement nearby whose eyes furiously traced the shape of her hips, the cleft of her ass, the swell of her growing breasts, getting hotter and hotter...

"Don't tell Lori, okay?" Luna mumbled, head hung low as she tried and failed to meet her brother's eyes. Her soft words jostled him from the heady fantasy he'd unconsciously indulged in and he blushed when he discovered how quickly it had taken hold of him.

"Y-yeah..." He agreed quietly. "I mean, I won't." He awkwardly clarified.

"Oh? And what if **I** tell her?" Sam suddenly cut in to tease, waggling her eyebrows.

"..._Truth or dare_." Luna growled between gritted teeth, affixing her girlfriend with a death glare.

"Truth." The blonde answered confidently.

"I _dare_ you to flash my little brother." Luna instantly challenged, eager to get Sam to embarrass herself like she'd forced her to by making her admit to her sordid youthful hijinx.

"Huh, is that all?" Sam asked, seemingly unintimidated by the idea. She promptly turned to Lincoln and, without any preamble whatsoever, pulled up her shirt. The young man's eyes widened; everything had happened so quickly that he hadn't even had time to argue with Luna to pick another dare before Sam exposed herself, the words catching in his throat and causing him to sputter.

As he stared at his sister's girlfriend's tits, stunned, he distantly realized that, this entire time, she had not been wearing a bra.

The blonde kept it up for a good ten seconds, subtly pushing her breasts together with her arms to make them appear bigger. "What do you think, Linc?" Sam smirked. He was, for the second time since their game began, speechless. Ordinarily he might have had the idea to turn away in some half-assed attempt to preserve her modesty but he'd been taken by surprise and the thought didn't occur to him. Instead his eyes, big as saucers, remained pinned on Sam's chest, carving the image into his brain, he feared, permanently. They were bountiful for her frame and perky, apple-sized, with perfectly proportioned pink gumdrop nipples. He had to admit, she was beautifully endowed. "Here, have a closer look..." She purred, her smile getting dirtier as she began to lean closer.

"O-okay, that's enough! Stop!" Luna piped up, only then finding her voice; the rocker had been just as frazzled as Lincoln that her girlfriend had complied to her dare instantly and without argument, which had led to the wonderment that had allowed Sam to carry on for so long. She shot her a disbelieving look. "What the heck, dude! I told you to flash him, not rub 'em in his face..."

Sam chuckled, pulling her shirt back down. "Hey, it was _your _dare." The blonde cleared her throat, "Anyway, I told you so, Lincoln. About the finding your siblings sexy thing, I mean. Stuff like that is nothing to sweat it over. It's normal." She turned to face Luna, giving her an affectionate look which seemed to mollify the young woman slightly. "Seriously, living around a bunch of cute girls, all of them grabbing you, hugging you, kissing you all the time..." She let her words hang dangerously. "Heck, I'm sure I would have had some dirty thoughts about my sisters too. _Especially_ if one of them was Luna."

Lincoln swallowed, clearly uncomfortable about what she was suggesting and still wrapping his head around everything that had just happened. Luna laughed nervously to dissipate the tension. "You're a weirdo," the brunette chided her, though without much conviction.

"You said you wanted a girl like her, right?" Sam asked, ignoring her and turning back to face him. "Truth or dare."

"D-don't I get a turn?" He asked, still flustered.

"Nope, cuz you weren't honest." She smirked. "Now stop stalling. Truth or dare."

Lincoln gave a long sigh. "Truth." He finally decided. Even though he was unhappy about the questions Sam kept asking him, the standard of dares they were on had decisively scared him off from trying his luck. After what had just happened he suspected the order of the day was less 'recite the alphabet while doing a handstand' and more 'streak naked through the building hallway'.

The blonde smiled. The way she did gave him the feeling he was dancing in the palm of her hand. It was an unpleasant sensation. "Be honest. If she wasn't your sister, you'd be into her, right?"

Absolutely.

That was the first word that came to mind, piercing through the half-formed lie he was coming up with that he'd been planning to use to explain why they should go to bed soon, and it almost slipped out of his mouth. It was true, though, and Lincoln didn't see _too_ much harm in admitting it, he guessed, at least in comparison with Sam's earlier line of questioning. Man, was truth or dare always like this? The boy wanted to dab off the beads of sweat gathering on his forehead but didn't for fear of seeming suspicious. It felt like he was getting grilled by an interrogator trying to poke holes in his alibi.

"Yeah," he conceded, "If she wasn't my sister, I'd totally be into her."

Luna's blush deepened and she coughed. "Uh, thanks," she said. Lincoln smiled at her weakly; he still didn't feel like he'd found any kind of footing in the conversation, but at least confessing that his sister was his type, something he'd only really discovered that very evening, hadn't creeped her out.

"Riiiiight?" The blonde agreed, pleased at his candor. "She's really great. Pretty, sweet, funny…" Sam cupped her hand to her mouth and leaned over to him, as though she was going to whisper the next bit, but instead said it louder. "_And great in the sack!_"

The boy didn't really know what to say to that, so he just chuckled awkwardly. Luna, for her part, softly slapped her girlfriend's arm. "Shut up...!"

"What?" Sam played innocent. "It's true. You're a real catch." She turned to glance at Lincoln, her warm smile hiding the cold, calculating glint in her eye. "Isn't she, Linc?"

It could have been the alcohol or the weed, the remnant electricity in the air from the party or the two girls' earlier kiss and Sam flashing him, but regardless, the young man found himself slowly loosening up again, getting pulled into the blonde's rhythm. "She is," he admitted, with an honesty borne of stiflement and frustration, "She's great and I do want a girl like her." He almost added 'are you happy now?', but stopped himself. No reason to get pissy. They were only having some fun, it wasn't Sam's fault he was so hard up. Not fully, at least. The question ultimately wasn't out of line, or at least it wouldn't have been if Lincoln didn't keep feeling like she was trying to goad him into saying something he couldn't take back.

Luna looked away shyly and Sam's smile turned into a dangerous-looking smirk. She turned to face her girlfriend. "Luna, truth or dare."

"...Dare." Luna answered quietly. She knew everything Sam was doing was for her benefit but couldn't handle the idea of being forced to reveal anything else like the Lori fiasco.

"_I_..." Sam crept towards her, "Dare _you_..." She circled her finger in front of her face before gently booping her on the nose, then pointing to Lincoln with her chin "To give your brother a lapdance."

Luna didn't react, but even with as much booze as he had in his belly and in a fog from the weed, Lincoln himself still gave a start, though much diminished from what the scale of his outrage would have been if he wasn't so stoned. "What? Sam, what are you-"

"Relax, dude." The blonde winked at him. "Just be cool, okay?" She could see by his expression that that wasn't gonna cut it, so she sighed, "Tell you what: if you're a good sport about this, I'll let you in on a little secret you might be interested to know."

"'A good sport'?" He repeated in disbelief, "That's my sister!" Lincoln threw his hands up. "Can't you just...Can't you pick..." He blinked, bringing a hand to his temple as his head started spinning again from the agitation not meshing well with his high. The words he'd planned to say next vanished from his mind like they'd fallen through a trap door.

He barely got a hold of himself and again attempted to bicker with Sam, but though he was intellectually aware of how far over the line she was stepping, emotionally he was surprised to find he couldn't really seem to muster the fire he felt he should have to argue the point; it'd all been doused with kahlua and smothered by reefer smoke. His protests sounded surprisingly hollow and halfhearted even to his own ears, to the point where, upon Sam's insistence, he actually wondered if he really was overreacting like she kept assuring him he was. The blonde claimed, with the kind of easy confidence that made someone difficult to doubt, that they were just having fun, and that it wasn't like she was asking her to strip for him. Which, she added in a leading, perhaps threatening, tone, she would have been perfectly justified in doing after the earlier dare Luna had given her. It made sense, sort of. Lincoln then lamely asked why it had to be him and why Luna couldn't give her a lapdance instead; after all, wouldn't that be less weird? But at this Sam just scoffed, claiming that would hardly be a dare at all since 'that's just our regular saturday night.' The young man cringed at the unwelcome detail on his sister's sex life, briskly backing off from that point but floundering when he was unable to think of anything else compelling to replace it with.

Normally, Lincoln Loud was pretty eloquent. At the very least, he was a good fast-talker; he had a knack for knowing the right things to say to get people to look at things his way. But at the moment, every argument he was throwing up seemed weaker than the last and he was getting easily browbeaten by his sister's girlfriend. Actually, Sam had already successfully convinced him this was just a bawdy way to mess with Luna and he'd be a killjoy to keep freaking out, but though he made it seem that his obstinacy was about sparing her the indignity, in reality he had rather more selfish motivations: the very real, very stressful possibility that if anyone, even his own sister, started using him like a stripper pole, his body might...well, react. The truth of the matter was that his needle had been sitting on the red for the last two weeks thanks to Sam's teasing without a single way for him to relieve the pressure (say whatever else you like about him, but Lincoln Loud wasn't the kind of guy who would jack off in someone's bathroom while a guest in their home, no matter how horny he was.) As a result of this his libido was as overactive as a twelve year old's at the moment; even a stiff breeze was enough to get him going, nevermind something like this. The hideous possibility he might very well become physically aroused from Luna, through no fault of his own and in front of both she and her girlfriend, had him fighting Sam to the end.

Finally, the blonde reiterated that she hadn't argued when she got dared to flash him, and Lincoln, hesitating, argued back that she shouldn't expect Luna to be as brave as her. It wasn't much of a point and he knew it, but his buzz was so strong it was all he could come up with.

Little did he know, those words were what finally snapped his sister from her indecision. Through Lincoln and Sam's entire argument, from the moment Sam had first made the dare, the brunette hadn't said a word. She simply sat there, wringing her hands in a panic, fretting and struggling about what her girlfriend had just asked her to do; whether she should or shouldn't, whether she even _could_. Luna knew Sam had something in mind, knew she was doing all of this for a reason, for _her_, but the young woman still found it impossible to find the courage to actually act. To cross such long established boundaries between her and her little brother, boundaries that had been there since they were kids. However, when Lincoln thoughtlessly said those words, the girl couldn't help but be immediately run through with everything that had happened during his break with them: how many opportunities to get closer to him Sam had created that she'd wasted through her own fear, how desperately she'd wished that she could have just one more chance when she thought Tabby was going to take him away from her, how badly she wanted to just be brave for once. In the end Tabby had left by herself, but it was because of her brother's pity for her rather than any real virtue of her own. That really bothered her. She knew the stature she'd held in Lincoln's mind when they were younger, how he'd always thought of her as so confident and daring, someone who wasn't afraid of anything. And she was! Just...not with him, not anymore. The fact that before she'd even noticed he had apparently come to regard her as some sort of wilting daisy killed her. Now, once again, here was that chance she'd been asking the universe for. Her girlfriend went far, far out of her way just to keep throwing the ball to her side of the court. For once, Luna decided that she was going to pick it up this time. She was going to show Lincoln he was wrong.

She was going to take her shot.

Her jaw set. The young woman suddenly stood up, grabbed her brother by the arm and dragged him to a nearby chair, much to his surprise. Sam gave an excited shriek, then rushed over to the sound system. The semi-vintage high fidelity stereo was the only really expensive thing in the apartment besides their guitars and Luna's keyboard; if there was one thing the two would always splurge on, it was music. The blonde rifled through their CDs quickly, an ancient format in the present day but one which could still be found in some specialty shops and which the girls preferred, before finally finding the one she wanted. Sam loaded the disc into the tray and quickly selected a particular track. She turned back to face the two with expectation in her eyes as the first notes of an old eighties hair rock tune started playing. While sexy, it was still pretty corny and dated; perhaps Sam thought it might help drain some of the seriousness out of the affair and put Lincoln more at ease. Luna blushed despite herself; if she remembered right the video for this particular single involved a sexy schoolteacher stripping in one of her student's classroom fantasies.

Luna sat Lincoln down on the chair and stared at him as the sultry, suggestive lyrics about letting go and having fun began booming through their apartment. The young man shifted awkwardly in place beneath her eyes, saying nothing, still stunned at how she'd taken the choice out of his hands so decisively. Finally, she took a deep breath and then turned, taking a few steps forward as she gathered her courage. It would be easier if she couldn't see him, she knew. Luna bit her lip; despite what Sam had claimed, she'd never actually done this before. She tried to remember what it looked like in the movies, in the video...

Soon enough, the girl began to sway. It was gentle at first, the rocker gradually letting her misgivings get washed away by the rhythm. Her shoulders rolled as she let her hands fall down by her sides, before slowly lifting them to trace up her body, up her hips, navel, and breasts... She cupped them softly and gave a soft, almost inaudible 'ah!'; behind her Lincoln stiffened in the chair like someone had just shouted it into his ear, hyper focused as all his senses had become on what was happening despite his will. All he could see at the moment was her back, her long legs and that small, pert butt in those painted-on cutoffs, but his mind still conjured for him a very vivid picture of what was going on just out of his sight. Suddenly Luna bent down at the waist, making her ass stick out even more, and began banging her head to the beat. Lincoln's mouth went dry as she suddenly stood up, turning, with her eyes still shut, and spread her legs. She repeated the perilous dip from before, but instead of her ass this time he got a show of her lithe, tight body, the modest swell of her breasts as the collar of her shirt hung enough to expose a dark, dangerous little gap where he could almost see within. Her hands, at first resting on her knees, she slowly dragged up over her legs, straightening her back, and began shaking her hips. Her fingers tangled in the hem of her shirt and she pulled it up a bit, showing off her abdomen and the barest hint of the line of her pelvic bone peeking out of her low rise shorts. Lincoln bit the inside of his cheek as his heart began to speed up, reminding himself over and over that this was his sister, but it did nothing to quell the heat that was starting to build in him. His gaze was drawn magnetically to the delicate curves of the slim body whose charm she emphasized with every swing of her hips and twist of her shoulders. This went on for some time, and with every moment that passed Luna's movements slowly became more confident, more suggestive and sensual. Finally, her eyes snapped open. She caught him staring; he froze.

Neither said anything, any other sounds in the apartment drowned out by the song. While titillating, Luna knew that everything she'd done so far could not, strictly speaking, be called a lapdance. She hadn't even actually touched him yet. A tendril of trepidation began to rise within her as she understood what she had to do next, but quieted when Luna let the music, her oldest friend, the one mainstay of her life she'd known almost as long as she had Lincoln, take control. Her eyes narrowed and for a brief moment it felt like she stepped out of herself, watching her body approach her entranced little brother. She placed a hand on his shoulder softly and the young man's skin instantly flared with goosebumps. He stared up at his sister from his chair, his eyes meeting hers, the rumble of the bass thrumming through his body, spurring on his heartbeat. The brunette swung a long, limber leg over the side of one of his thighs, then the other, and then she was holding herself above him by his shoulders, her thumbs resting on his collarbone. She was shorter than he was, a reversal from when they were kids, and to not fall over him had to stand on the tips of her toes, very close, practically hugging his face to her stomach. The young man did nothing either to encourage or dissuade her, instead sitting perfectly still, as if worried that any movement would be interpreted the wrong way. At last she began to let herself drop, ever so slowly. She didn't notice how her shirt caught on his nose just a bit; Lincoln's head was swimming, his temples throbbed as he unconsciously took a deep drag of air. His sister had perspired a bit while dancing and his nostrils filled with the hot scent of her clean, soapy skin, his lungs swelling with fire. Then, as she bent her knees and her shirt rode up further, for just the briefest instant, Luna felt it: her little brother's chin pressed against her bare navel, almost dipping beneath the waistband of her shorts.

The fright that gave her was enough to instantly break the spell she was under and she jumped back as though burned. Lincoln, for his part, had felt it too, and was equally distressed. The two siblings stared at each other with panicked eyes, chests rising and falling with every tense inhale they dared to take as the song gradually came to an end. It was deathly silent, the only sound either of them could hear their heavy breathing. They thought about what to say but neither could think of anything and that only made them more upset.

That's when the stifling mood was broken by the sound of someone clapping. That's when Luna and Lincoln remembered they weren't the only two people in the room. Hell, for an instant they'd felt like they were the only two people in the _world_.

"Dang, Lunes, you've been holding out on me." Sam offered with more than a little envy. Her girlfriend's daring had surprised her, she had to admit. The blonde had expected her to demure or wuss out at the end, but she'd done a lot better than she expected. "Since when could you dance like that?"

As soon as Luna turned to face her, Lincoln stood up from the chair, scurrying back to his previous place on the floor behind his sister's back like a criminal fleeing from the scene of the crime.

"I...I didn't..." The brunette was still panicking a bit, standing there frozen like a girl that'd been caught doing something wrong, wondering what had come over her, but Sam simply swaggered over, giving her a hug and a kiss on the side of her jaw.

"I'm proud of you," She whispered softly into her ear, causing the blush to rise over her girlfriend's face again. Luna said nothing, ultimately slinking back to her place in the circle adjacent to Lincoln and sinking down to the floor. She pulled her knees up to her face so the only thing that could be seen was her big, soft eyes.

The blonde took her own seat. Nobody said anything for a long while, the atmosphere still quite heavy and awkward. Both siblings were too ashamed to even look at each other. "Oh come on, guys. Relax..." Sam tried to console them. She thought about what she could do to relieve the suffocating tension before suddenly giving another sharp clap that startled both Louds. "Right! I promised you a secret, didn't I Lincoln?" She smirked.

"...That's alright." The boy murmured quietly, shaking his head. He was still pretty shaken up and didn't feel at all emotionally ready to handle anybody's secrets at the moment.

"Oh, don't be that way," The blonde laughed, "This concerns _you_, cottontop."

Lincoln shut his eyes, wetting his dry lips with his tongue. "Alright, okay..." He sighed, knowing that when dealing with Sam it was always easier just to give in, "What's the secret."

"_Weeell,_" She smiled even more widely, "You know how you said you want a girl like your sister?"

"Yes." The young man answered sullenly, between clenched teeth. He did not care to be reminded of his earlier admission so quickly after what had just happened.

Sam pursed her lips and leaned in close, drawing the words out before she blew them into his face like a sweet, poisonous kiss. Her breath smelled like alcohol and coffee sweets, and as it washed over him it made him dizzy, somehow. Excited. "She wants a guy like you too."

Lincoln blinked in surprise. He wasn't sure he heard right, and in his drunkenness he almost reacted by waving his arm, as if he could fan the statement away from him along with Sam's delicious breath. Luna wanted...a guy? But she already had Sam. He tried to respond but no words would form, his head still muddled from the pot, the feelings from the dance and trying to figure out what his sister's girlfriend meant. The more of the alcohol still in his belly he digested the more the young man's brain was starting to feel like a dinosaur that had fallen into a tarpit. He got the sense he was sinking deeper and deeper into a situation he didn't understand, making things harder for himself, but didn't feel like he could do anything about it even if he knew it was happening.

"You know, they say girls marry guys like their fathers," the blonde offered reasonably. "It makes sense if you think about it. You grow up around someone of the opposite sex, you see how they are, what they do, you love them...Down the line, it's not crazy that you'd start looking for their traits in other people, right?"

Lincoln rubbed the back of his neck. He might have argued had he been in his right mind, but thinking was becoming increasingly difficult and he had no idea where she was trying to go with this.

"So you want a girl like her and she wants a guy like you," Sam continued, as if everything she was saying was perfectly logical, "You were close, you sort of helped each other find what you want in the opposite sex. That's just how it goes, right?"

"I...guess," he admitted. The young man was dimly, distantly aware that he was _guessing_ about a lot of things that night. Sam was walking him, he realized on some level, setting him up somehow. He should probably put a stop to it, right...?

His sister was still looking pointedly away, perhaps to hide her discomfort. The blonde cupped Luna's cheek in her hand and turned her face towards her. Luna's eyes darted to her girlfriend's and in them Lincoln saw pleading. Pleading for her to stop, or pleading for something else. Sam skimmed her thumb over the ridge of her cheek bone, leaned in, and claimed her lips. It was another long kiss, like the one they'd shared earlier, and just as deliberately sensuous. Lincoln stared at them, mesmerized, and ashamed of the growing hunger it stoked in him. He tried to look away but he couldn't...didn't want to. He clenched his fist so hard his knuckles turned pale and fingernails bit hard into his skin to keep from reaching out to touch them, like they were a flame he knew would burn him if he tried.

Sam broke the kiss and gazed into her girlfriend's eyes; they looked conflicted, but still beamed with deep love and trust for her. "You're beautiful," she reminded her again. She wasn't asking this time.

Luna giggled shyly despite herself, and the sound made Lincoln's heart clench.

Sam turned to Lincoln and fixed him with a devious smile. She gave him a long, appraising look before finally coming to a decision. Sam knew the boy was at that instant as pliable as he was ever likely to be.

It was time.

Sam let herself fall on to her hands and knees and stalked over to him like a cat, her eyes sparkling darkly. The young man's mind instinctively sounded with alarm bells, muffled though they were by a sea of kahlua. He almost jolted away, very wary of Sam by that point, but when he did his arm knocked against a corner of the coffee table behind him. The many glasses on top of it nearly tumbled to the ground and broke; it caused Lincoln to hesitate, and that brief moment was all it took for her to suddenly be right in front of him. "W-what are you doin-" He stammered, but the blonde shushed him with a fingertip. The digit felt maddeningly hot against his lips. Her expression seemed to signal...he wasn't sure, danger, a promise, and apprehension gripped him even through the haze he was in. He felt like a deer in the headlights, frozen while something strange and unknowable hurtled towards it from the darkness. This was different from her normal bawdy jokes, he somehow sensed. She wasn't playing this time.

Sam knelt in front of Lincoln and tenderly laid her hand on his leg, over the inside of his thigh and dangerously near the slowly hardening bulge in the front of his pants. The air left him in a rush and his mind went blank, robbing him of the ability to react or even think, eyes flicking down to her fingers as they scritched his jeans softly. He felt like he finally understood what that term meant, 'the heat of the moment'. There was so much adrenaline and expectation coursing through him it was making him feel like it was a hundred and twenty degrees in the room. "You're beautiful too, Lincoln." She whispered with a beatific smile, so unlike the teasing grin she normally wore. Sam was being honest, the young man realized; she meant it, and it actually made him feel bashful, like a little boy being complimented by a teen he was crushing on. To his surprise, she suddenly took his face in her hands, leaning in. Lincoln's heart started pounding even harder and every nerve ending he had tingled at once. He reeled as her face drew near, wondering if any of this was really happening or if it was all some fevered reefer dream. Her nose brushed his, her breath broke over his lips, and her eyes gazed deeply into his own. Lincoln lost himself in them, frantically searching for Sam's trademark mirth in those placid cerulean pools, some hint this was all just a big put-on, but finding only smoky, unrestrained desire. After what seemed like an eternity, their lips at last met. His back arched in surprise and a hitching breath broke from his lungs. He was stunned, thrilled and horrified all in equal measure, all while he and Sam remained beneath the focused, unblinking gaze of his sister.

Luna simply stared at the two while all of this was happening as if hypnotized. She would have expected the sight of Lincoln kissing another girl to mortify her, make her squirm and panic like she had when he had been hitting it off with Tabby, but to the rocker's surprise she didn't feel that way at all. Rather, watching the two most important people in her life making out together excited her immensely. Her heart raced and her knees went weak, her core clenching with anxious, eager spasms. Maybe it was because she trusted Sam and knew she'd never do anything to hurt her, would never try to take her brother away. She didn't know. But whatever the case was, rather than hating it Luna instead hoped they wouldn't stop; she felt like she could watch the two kiss and touch and caress each other forever. The only grievance in her heart as she relished in the spectacle was her deep, keening wish that she could have gotten to be a part of it too.

Sam molded their lips and swept her tongue into his mouth and he groaned helplessly at the taste: kahlua and his sister's lip gloss. His nails dug into his knees to stop himself from grabbing her and what was left of his mind baked inside the case of his skull. The blonde swirled her tongue gently around his, probing and exploring, giving him a kiss just as passionate as the one she'd given her girlfriend of eight years, leaving him utterly stunned, utterly breathless, yearning for more, before then, finally, drawing back. Her face was flushed red and there was a strange look in her eyes, one he hadn't seen before. It revealed satisfaction and a deep, primal anticipation.

"Luna's in love with you, Lincoln," Sam whispered gleefully. "She has been for a long time."

He tried and failed to process what Sam had just said before turning his wide, disbelieving eyes to his sister. Luna had scooted closer and sat on her knees to watch their kiss, captivated as she was by the sight, and as a result found herself quite near the two at that moment. Too near to disguise the shock she felt at her girlfriend suddenly selling her out and too near to hide the way the breath froze in her lungs or how her eyes moistened with deep, deep guilt and panic when her brother searched them for confirmation that what the blonde had just told him was true.

"What about you...?" Sam murmur-moaned, bending down to press soft kisses against his bare neck. He would have hissed, but he couldn't breathe. The boy shuddered, every part of him pulled tight, his mind, his soul. The young man's reason kicked futilely in the tar, begging him to think, to act, to _do something_, but every sense he had felt like it was burning and he was struck dumb and limbless by the immensity of what Sam had just revealed to him.

She let her kisses lead her until she was on her knees to his right, like a devil perched on his shoulder, whispering the wrong thing to do. Somehow the siblings had been led closer by the gentle, insistent pulling of the blonde on Luna's arm and now they faced each other across a gap of bare inches, so close that he could smell the booze on his sister's breath and feel the frightened, excited heat rolling off of her in waves. Sam cupped the back of his neck in one hand and the back of Luna's in the other, massaging them, rubbing her thumb in circles over their skin until the tension in their muscles instinctively relaxed and the two shuddered. She looked between them with a greedy, pleased smile. "Are you in love with her too, Lincoln?" She asked.

She was taking a chance. This was not how the script she'd prepared went. Her original plan had been to prey on his better nature, to get Lincoln to fuck Luna by convincing him he'd break her heart forever if he didn't. It seemed at least possible considering what she knew about his character and devotion to his family. But ever since Sam had witnessed how he'd let a smoking hot girl leave by herself when he could have gone with her just so he could spend his evening comforting his sister instead, she had a sneaking suspicion about what was really going on with him, and the scheming blonde was willing to risk everything, even the mood and momentum she'd worked so hard to build up in the event he said no, if it meant she got to find out for sure.

Under any other circumstances, ANY other circumstances, Lincoln never would have entertained the notion. He would have been rightfully horrified and indignant at being asked a question like that about Luna or _any _of his siblings, dismissed it out of hand and promptly stormed off. But Sam had been thorough in the means she'd taken to subtly open his mind to the possibility, taking things one step at a time. First she'd plied him with drinks, getting him hopelessly inebriated, enough to badly impair his usually sound judgement. Then she'd browbeaten him into smoking his first joint so he'd be just that little bit more confused and suggestible. After that the young woman deliberately seeded the idea in his head during their game of truth or dare earlier, and what's more, showed herself to be sympathetic, tried to convince him that they were all friends there, that it wasn't that wild; if he'd been sober he might have realized what she was doing, but in the state he was in it only undermined any remaining reservations he might have subconsciously still had. The biggest effect, however, had been achieved by getting the person he most trusted, Luna, to indulge herself, to dance for him knowing that, after two weeks of teasing, his body would cry out for her regardless of what his mind said. Yes, she couldn't have done this without Luna...

But even with how heavily she'd stacked the deck, Sam had still carefully chosen her moment. It was only after she'd kissed him, when she knew he was at the peak of his emotional upheaval, that she finally revealed the truth about the way his sister felt.

It worked. The boy was on tilt and despite every effort he made not to, he couldn't stop his mind from actually going there.

As Lincoln stared into his sister's frightened eyes, the sadness and resignation in them jarring him to his core, every memory he had made with Luna over the years irresistibly rushed over him in a warm, nostalgic tide- all the mischief they'd got up to together when they were younger, the knowing smirks shared over the dinner table after they'd just got barely gotten away with something, the lazy afternoons lounging in her bunk bed with her and listening to music, talking, laughing, basking in the warm familiarity of one another and the feeling of being totally understood, totally accepted. It hadn't seemed to matter that she was older than him or that they were both at an awkward age then, the connection they shared was stronger than that. He trusted her and she'd clearly treasured that trust. And even though he'd only started puberty right when she was wrapping it up, his sister had never once treated him as though he was a bother or like he was just her immature little brother, never been condescending or dismissive. She was always just...Luna. The girl who'd make sure to make time for him when he needed her or knock on his door if she noticed he was struggling with something; everyone else might be too preoccupied by their own personal dramas but not her. Luna was the one person in his life who, no matter what else she had going on at the time or what kind of pressure she was under, would always welcome him when he came calling with a smile and a twinkle in her eye.

For perhaps the first time ever, Lincoln was fully honest with himself about everything. He thought about how much he'd missed her when she'd first moved out, how bitter and lost he'd felt; the boy had cried sometimes, made excuses that it was about something else when he was discovered by his family. He thought about the incredible wellbeing he'd felt simply from getting to spend a quiet moment with her again that morning, reminded of what their relationship used to be like. He thought about how much he hated the idea of things between them going back to the way they were just two weeks ago. He thought and he thought and he thought, and as he did all the feelings he'd been harboring for his sister his entire life, everything he'd been repressing since she'd left, affection, attraction, brotherly and not, innocent and not, everything he ever felt for her slowly merged into one massive tidal wave that, with his inhibitions lowered into non-existence by all the intoxicants in his system, crushed him under the weight of its single, undeniable truth. Lincoln paled.

Yes.

He was in love with her.

Only once he accepted it did several things slowly dawn on him, falling into place in his mind. _That_ was why something kept telling him he shouldn't go with Tabby. That was why, for years, he'd had so much trouble approaching other girls. Some part of him knew what he was _really_ yearning for and it was jamming him up. He'd told himself it was all down to his own lack of confidence but it wasn't, not fully. Tabby proved that. She was so similar to Luna that he'd been able to trick himself for a while, but even with her he hadn't been able to take it all the way. He knew why. Staring into his sister's eyes now, he realized that he loved her with a child-like purity that he would never, ever feel for any other woman. No other woman, after all, could be Luna Loud. Ronnie Anne couldn't, none of the girls he could meet on campus could, not even Tabby could. There was only one Luna and he didn't want a girl _like_ her. He wanted **her**.

The realization was sudden and disturbing, panic welling in the pit of his stomach. He wondered if, deep down, that was why he'd made sure to stay away even though they lived in the same city and he was usually all about his family. Had he been subconsciously trying to protect her from his own grotesque desires? No, Lincoln knew that was probably giving him too much credit. More likely it was the thought of being around her again without being able to be _with_ her, having to watch her lead the happy life with Sam she had he knew he wasn't a part of and never would be, that had caused him to shy away. Maybe he'd been selfishly making excuses not to visit and staying at arm's length all this time just to try and spare himself some pain. He wasn't sure. He wasn't sure about anything anymore.

"Yeah," Lincoln heard himself croak hopelessly, tears threatening to spill from his eyes as he was overcome by the unreal intensity of what was happening, the searing, hallucinogen-facilitated personal revelation Sam had patiently guided him to that threatened to shatter apart everything he _thought_ he understood about who he was and his relationship with his sister, "I do."

Luna's face blazed crimson and her throat bobbed as she attempted to swallow around a lump of emotion. Lincoln's admission had left her dizzy, lightheaded, trembling with happiness and disbelief. Sam subtly guided their faces closer, closer...She was consciously, purposefully hurrying him along while he was still off-balance, before he had the time to process what was happening. She knew she had to keep him out of his own head and in the moment. The Louds, in her experience with Luna, had a habit of hesitating and second-guessing themselves and it was up to her to keep that from happening this time. The blonde was going to make damn sure Lincoln didn't have the time or the peace to start hating himself for his feelings like his sister had; she was going to make sure he stayed right there in the here and now, with them. The young man's heart pounded painfully into his ribcage as they drew closer, too overwhelmed by everything he'd discovered to even think to resist. Luna, for her part, tried to pull away at the last minute in a final spasm of fear and instinctive self-denial, but Sam held firm and pushed them to within inches of each other's lips.

That, however, was as far as the two would let her drag them, the last stubborn embers of the previously innocent love they'd shared their whole lives keeping them there, that one last whisper apart.

"You want each other," Sam insisted with a hiss, almost angrily, "Don't you?"

Luna worried her bottom lip with her teeth and flicked her eyes away, all but confessing she did. For his part, Lincoln caressed her with his gaze, the confusion, guilt, fear and desire all pooling together into an unpleasant stew in his belly, giving him a nauseating headrush. The urge to take her face in his hands and force her to look at him, to talk to him, work all of it out like they always did, gripped him like an iron vice, but he stopped himself.

Both were thinking the same thing. Could they really do this? _Should_ they really do this? What they had was special and beautiful and meant the world to them. Changing it into something else, something it was never meant to be, might well destroy it. Was what they _could be_ worth risking what they _were_?

"_Don't you?_" Sam urged.

Luna looked at her brother. "_Yesss_," she at last choked out haltingly, ashamed and on the verge of tears. She'd always been the more honest of the two, Lincoln acknowledged then. The braver one. How foolish could he have been to think otherwise? She'd confronted the way she felt so much earlier than he had and she hadn't had to get messed up first or lead by the nose to do it either. She was still the same old daring Luna...

"Lincoln?" Sam turned towards him.

The young man nodded hopelessly. "...Yeah."

The blonde smiled, victorious. "Then _have_ each other," she said.

Sam pushed them again and this time, finally, the two nervously, but with yearning simmering in their hearts, allowed themselves to be guided that last bit of the way. Lincoln instinctively tilted his head and Luna hers as they drifted closer and closer, both as frightened as they'd ever been in their lives. They stared into each other's eyes, their breaths mingling as one, and almost shuddered when they felt the warmth of it washing over their faces. The anticipation, the sheer intoxicating headiness of everything that was happening was unreal. At last, their lips, trembling, touched, and the two almost recoiled at the near-electric spark they felt when they did. Lincoln's senses sizzled at the sensation of his sister's soft kiss and Luna whimpered in delight. Everything going on felt like a crazy, wonderful dream to her; she was afraid to wake up, hoped she never did...They hesitated a moment after that quick brush, bodies quivering under the intense rush of longing and dread, dancing on the edge of the wire, before his sister at last steeled herself and rushed forward to press her mouth needily to his. Lincoln welcomed her readily, and before either of them realized they were doing it, their lips parted and the siblings' tongues met, dancing a slow, sensuous melody together, naturally, like they knew all along what to do. Like every other kiss the two had had in their lives, whether they knew it or not, had just been practice for this one. It was at once both languid and desperate, enthusiastic yet tentative, as if each was worried if they pushed too hard the sweet fantasy would shatter and their partner would fade away like a fantasy that had never truly been there. Both were having trouble accepting that what was happening was real. Shivers raced through Luna's body and Lincoln's heart throbbed in what felt like the center of his head.

They continued kissing, lightly at first, coy, like nervous children afraid they were doing something naughty, but soon more eagerly as their long repressed passions began to consume them now that they had at last been offered an outlet. Lincoln circled his hands on the small of her back while Luna cupped his face hard, her purple fingernails nearly digging into his skin in her desperation to deepen their connection; they'd carve grooves into it if he dared try to pull away from her then. He didn't.

Sam simply watched from the sidelines, her breathing becoming increasingly heavy as her eyes thrummed at the mouthwateringly erotic scene she was lucky enough to enjoy from up close. The two truly didn't seem to care anymore that they were brother and sister. They refused to let it stop them. _She _had made this happen, the blonde realized with a swell of mania, and it suddenly made her feel incredibly powerful. She was the one that had convinced the two to throw everything away and just go for it, society be damned, their old relationship be damned, everything be damned. After all, _they_ were damned too. Sam finally acknowledged, as she watched Luna tug on her little brother's bottom lip with her teeth, that she wanted to be damned with them.

The brunette at last pulled away and the two panted for air. Their faces were matching shades of scarlet and their eyes were clouded with lust. Lincoln's dick strained painfully against the inseam of his jeans and the world reeled back and forth like a ship on stormy seas.

"There," Sam murmured smokily, "How was that...?"

A moment passed as they both took deep breaths before a big, happy smile suddenly skipped across Luna's lips. She rested her forehead against Lincoln's and looked down at her lap. "I just kissed my brother," she laughed in disbelief. She didn't sound mortified, only quiet and small, like a girl who couldn't accept that she had finally obtained what she had long desired. Cathartic, ecstatic tears gathered ceaselessly in the corners of her eyes, threatening to spill down her face at any moment. Lincoln fought the maddening urge he felt to kiss them away.

"Did you like it?" Sam asked with more than a bit of satisfaction.

Luna didn't immediately reply, but her girlfriend wouldn't let up.

"Did you?" The blonde pressed. She wanted to hear her say it.

Luna looked up at Lincoln but couldn't meet his eyes. The boy was rendered utterly dumbstruck by the sight of her then; she was like a bashful, demure nymph out of some fairy tale. It made his heart ache. He was falling in love with her all over again, he realized with a start, hard and fast and merciless; the stark, undeniable intensity of his feelings stunned him. He knew then that this wasn't just some drunken delusion of his, wasn't something he had let himself get talked into or carried away by the mood into wanting. This was real. This was all him.

"I did." She admitted shyly.

Sam leaned in and whispered into Luna's ear. "_Do it again._"

The young woman seemed to consider it for a moment, albeit a very brief one, before smiling and kissing him once more, with greater urgency this time. Her lips pressed against his almost hard enough to bruise, and Lincoln could only let her have her way. The intensity of her desire, transmitted through that kiss, overwhelmed him. His back ached painfully with the effort he made not to pounce on the frantic, gorgeous being in front of him right then and there, the one he'd always only known as his sister, yet had no choice now but to acknowledge was a woman, and a beautiful one.

Ever so subtly, as they made out Sam took Luna's hand and guided it to his crotch, then gently forced it closed around the sizable bulge that was throbbing in his pants in his instinctive response to her fevered kiss. Lincoln gave a sharp gasp into his sister's mouth, his body so sensitive and alive in that moment the simple feeling of her fingers over his manhood overwhelmed him, and Sam purred in the back of her throat. She led Lincoln's hand to his sister's breast and pressed it over her heart; it pounded madly against his palm. The young man could feel how it resonated almost musically with his own heartbeat, thumping in his ears, making the blood flowing through his veins burn hot and eager in response. "It's okay to touch your sister like this," Sam whispered. "She likes it."

Rocking forward on her knees, Luna was soon kneading and massaging Lincoln's erection through the fabric of his jeans, this time without the need of her girlfriend's prompting, guided simply by her own desires. Waves of pleasure crashed over him and he jerked under her touch beneath Sam's appreciative gaze. Lincoln squeezed Luna's chest unconsciously and she moaned, the sound so sultry and sensual it made his jaw clench with the effort he made not to tear her clothes off.

Sam leaned in and nipped Luna's neck. The leaden pressure was back in the blonde's loins and she was starting to get drunk on the sights and smells enshrouding her: Luna's primal scent, Lincoln's flushed face and unfocused eyes, and her own body's desperate cries to be played with. Each of the siblings was like a perfect, delicious treat just waiting to be devoured. She was hopelessly wet and her stiff nipples scraped painfully against the fabric of her shirt, begging to be touched, tweaked, and sucked. The girl couldn't take it anymore.

"Why don't we go to bed?" Sam at last purred into her girlfriend's ear.


	15. Ménage à trois

**Editor's Note: Hey everyone, DoctorYnot here! I asked Flagg if I could say a few words and he very graciously let me insert this note into his story. First of all, I just wanted to let everyone know that the updates slowing down is entirely my fault. Flagg kept creating at the same astonishing rate he always does, it was my own infamous slow speed that caused the hold up. I know the first half of the fic was uploaded much more briskly. **

**I think perhaps the impression has been given that I've been helping since the start, but to be honest, I feel I've only really contributed anything meaningful recently, around these last four chapters or so. Particularly these last two, which were in fact one chapter originally, but I was vibing so hard on the stuff Flagg laid down that I couldn't resist jumping on it and got so crazy adding my own stuff that it ballooned into two. He was really cool about all of it in any case and didn't mind me being, in retrospect, pretty presumptuous to do that; I can only thank him for allowing me a place in his amazing story and apologize again to all of you for the delay. Even now I'm still tinkering with this chapter, to be honest I wish I could have two more months with it...But I know that wouldn't be fair to you guys, this is a Flagg1991 fic, you shouldn't have to deal with my brand of hold-ups. Anyway, I'm just glad everyone's enjoying the story so much, obviously I am too. I'd particularly like to give a shout out to MedullaMind for making three pieces of amazing art based on it, one of which is now the cover! He really does do terrific work and you should definitely check him out at pixiv (pixiv MedullaMind) for more wonderful art, especially his new Loud House comic, Want To Watch, which is truly excellent. Go check it out now!**

**In any case, I'm thrilled that everyone's enjoyed this crazy ride as much as I have and I hope you all like this new chapter just as much!**

Resolve filled Luna's eyes and she bit her bottom lip seductively before giving a hard nod. Rising to her feet, she grabbed the front of Lincoln's shirt like a cavewoman claiming her mate, a display that thrilled Sam immensely, and the blonde helped drag the staggered boy up and then over. Sam led them into the bedroom, a smirking, pied piper of sin, and sat on the mattress, the same one she'd only ever shared with and made love to her girlfriend on before tonight, with a bounce.

In front of her the siblings continued kissing ferociously, animalistically, their hands tearing at each other's clothes. At one point Lincoln couldn't help himself, forcing Luna up against the doorframe at the entrance to her bedroom just so he could feel his body press against hers and get some minor relief from the fire that felt like it was coursing through his veins, the brunette moaning desperately. The young man's hands roamed over her body, finally finding themselves beneath the hem of her t-shirt, and they broke the kiss just long enough for Luna to raise her arms so Lincoln could yank it off of her.

His sister's purple bra and the small but pert breasts it supported were barely visible in the half light from the living room. Lincoln wrapped his arms around her, struggling not to force her shorts down, hike her legs up and take her right then and there. The shape and heat of her body against his felt indescribably right and his erection insistently prodded the hollow between her thighs. She pressed her palms flat to his chest and they kissed again. The young man's head spun and he felt even drunker than before; his fevered blood pumping, heart racing, and the sickly sweet taste of his sister's tongue pushing him deeper and deeper into a lust-driven frenzy, like a poison he was quickly discovering he couldn't live without. Her fingertips ran over his face and down his chest worshipfully, touching and relishing in his firmness, in the reality of him, and he instinctively ground himself against her, losing himself to the feeling of his straining cock pressing deliciously against her navel.

Consumed by passion as they were, neither paid very close attention to where they were going and soon the two tumbled over the edge of the bed to the sound of Sam's high, musical laughter. Luna straddled the boy as they rolled upon the mattress, her knees caging his hips and her hands pinning his shoulders down. They continued kissing hotly, frantically, swallowing each other's saliva as though only it could quench the maddening heat in the pit of their stomachs. The siblings' bodies moved in time, the friction from their sexes rubbing together through their clothes sending electric tendrils down Lincoln's spine. He ran his hands up and down Luna's flanks and savored the feeling, squeezing her narrow waist. She slid her hands under his shirt and trailed her fingers over his chest, the hot kiss of her flesh making his stomach quiver.

A little voice somewhere in his head told him that this was wrong, that they were verging on doing something they might very well regret, but he didn't care. He physically _couldn't_. All that mattered to him in that moment was the girl on top of him, the one he had always desired but had never been brave enough to admit to wanting.

Pushing down, Luna suddenly reared up and stared into his eyes, a bewildered, almost frightened expression coming over her face, as though she didn't know how she got there and couldn't decide whether she liked it or not.

Sam knelt next to them and rubbed her girlfriend's back in affectionate, reassuring strokes. Lincoln's erection nestled perfectly between his sister's thighs and ached for its release; he could _feel_ the heat of her arousal soaking through the fabric of her shorts and it almost ripped a gasp from him.

"Go on," Sam said huskily and kissed Luna's neck, "Fuck him."

Luna chewed her bottom lip until it was nearly swollen, a battle of good versus evil raging in her eyes. She wanted it as badly as he did but, like him, she was worried about irreparably altering their relationship. They could still stop. They'd only kissed so far. They could still stop...

Sam hooked her fingers into the waistband of Luna's shorts and kissed her neck again, lost in her own lust, a bad influence personified urging the two normally responsible young adults ever further down the twisted path they were on. "Do it. You _know_ you want to."

Luna locked eyes with her little brother and seemed to waver for a moment. Then, unable to help herself, she bent over and kissed him, her hands sliding into his and their fingers entwining happily. Her butt thrust into the air, putting Sam in mind of a bitch in heat begging to be mated, and she fought the urge to slap it, a wicked smile edging her lips. The blonde caught flashes of their lapping, questing tongues, and simply recalling how innocent they used to be around each other as she watched the pair of siblings now clawing and licking and sucking while they both wordlessly begged for more nearly made her cum without her even having to touch herself.

Getting behind Luna, Sam slipped her fingers further into her girlfriend's shorts and tugged them down her hips. Beneath them was a set of black panties that dipped below the cleft of her butt, clinging to her damp skin. Luna's wild musk rushed out like the sweetest perfume and Sam salivated. She had seen a lot of cute butts in her time, but Luna's was definitely her favorite. She put her hands on her hips, hooking her thumbs on the waistband of her panties and pulled them down slowly, like a girl unwrapping a present. Luna moaned as the soaked fabric was peeled off of her with agonizing deliberateness, finally exposing her sweltering girlhood to the cool night air. Inch after inch of creamy, freckled skin was slowly bared to Sam's greedy eyes. Finally, she yanked them down to Luna's knees, then tugged them over her feet. The blonde went to toss them away, but before she did, gave in to a sudden spasm of perversity, pressing them to her nose and taking a deep whiff.

It was the scent of a girl in love. God, she smelled _delicious_.

Sam flung the panties over her shoulder and then turned her attention back to her girlfriend's butt. Her cheeks were spread, her sticky center glistening with natural lubrication. She laid her hands on Luna's lower back and ran them in wide circles, digging her thumbs softly into the cute dimples above her ass, then slipping her hand between Luna's thighs and cupping her pussy in her palm, her middle finger sinking between her quivering folds. The girl gave a hard gasp and broke from the kiss she'd been lost in with her brother, jolting in surprise. Sam traced the rim of her opening and lightly skimmed her clit, grinning at the way her sweet, hopeless lover squirmed helplessly under her touch.

As her girlfriend continued to play her body like an instrument she knew only too well, Luna lost it. She forced Lincoln's shirt up in one rough, impatient motion before falling over his chest to trail wet, frenzied kisses across it. The rocker rolled her eyes up to his and he stared back at her hungrily; her hair was messy and her was face flushed and sweaty, but at that moment he felt like she was the most beautiful creature on earth. His back seized every time her fiery lips met his flesh; her kisses trailed down, down, until they reached his navel, then lower still, her hand fumbling at the front of his jeans. He lifted his butt hastily. Luna got a good grip before yanking them to his knees. The girl stared in wonder as the sizeable heft of his erection, straining against his briefs, was revealed.

"Holy fuck..." Sam mumbled from behind them. The kid was _huge_, and the contrast of the oversized tool on his skinny frame made it look even more obscene.

Luna hesitated for a moment before reaching out with her hand. She touched the bulge carefully, experimentally, with just her fingertips, and Lincoln instantly let out a desperate moan, his body sizzling with desire. Emboldened by his response, Luna did it again, grinning as she was rewarded with another moan, then finally tugged his underwear down hard, as though resenting it for ever having the temerity to block her from her prize in the first place. Cool air rushed over the young man's fevered skin and goosebumps raked his flesh as his erection sprung up before his sister's face, almost bopping her on the nose. Luna stared at his now-freed cock in wonder, nostrils flaring as she took in the hot, stuffy scent, every little detail about it scorching itself into her mind as she finally beheld it uncovered for the first time. His prick looked swollen and heavy and desperate to be touched, a glowing bead of precum forming at the tip. The girl licked her lips before leaning forward and, to Lincoln's surprise, giving the head a kiss so soft, tender and loving that it made him shudder pitifully trying not to cum all over her face right then.

She couldn't wait any longer. His sister reared, moving to mount him, and he caught a fleeting glimpse of her pussy, glistening in the moonlight from her own arousal. The frantic young woman pressed her hands to his chest, swiveled her hips as she adjusted herself, then threw her head back with a gasp when his scaldingly hot cock accidentally poked the inside of her thigh. The helmet of his prick prodding insistently against her nethers and the moist sensation of her skin on his was tantalizing and exquisite; his body cried out, begging him to rut her even as he desperately fought the urge, tried to hold himself back.

Panting like a wild animal, Luna ground herself back and forth on her brother's erection, entranced by the sensations it was causing in her, one hand braced on his stomach and the other splayed behind her on the bed. Sam hurriedly moved to the side to watch, only then realizing that her own panties were soaking through. Her legs rubbed together to at least try and quench the fire she felt, but it was like trying to put out Hell with a cup of water.

Her girlfriend's pussy slid along Lincoln's shaft with a mesmerizing schlicking sound that seemed to echo in their empty bedroom until it and their hot, gasping breaths were all any of the three could hear. The blonde stared at the boy's exposed manhood with dreamy eyes, their mingled heat caressing her face as she leaned in closer for a better look, almost burning. It was beautiful, long and thick with a strong cord throbbing at its base. A drop of clear fluid oozed down his shaft like a life-giving elixir, and she whined needily in the back of her throat. She knew how fertile the Louds were. She knew what that drop meant.

Sam shot Luna an impatient look; the girl was so insensate with desire that she didn't even have the presence of mind to reach down, take her brother's dick and bring it to her pussy, seemingly more than satisfied with just the way grinding herself against him felt.

What she needed was a helping hand. The blonde smiled to herself.

Again.

Reaching between the almost, but not quite, copulating siblings, Sam hesitantly wrapped her fingers around Lincoln's penis, hissing when she felt it throb against her palm. God, had anything other than her girlfriend's pussy ever felt this velvety? This hot? Maybe it was their genes, but the Louds threw off incredible heat, and imagining Lincoln's cock radiating it over her face and lips as she stared up at him from on her knees, plaintive and begging, left her almost choking with desire, jaw clenching at the thought.

A bead of precum dribbled onto her hand and, slowly, savoring the moment, she ran her thumb up and down, smearing his juices across his taut skin. Sam rubbed it again over the ridge of the head and giggled at the way the boy twitched and shook, looking at her with wordless pleading. The blonde stroked down to his base, held fast, and tugged Luna's shoulder. Luna pulled away from her brother briefly to regard her girlfriend with love drunk eyes. "Lift up," Sam commanded.

She almost thought Luna was too far gone in her lust to understand her, but soon enough she laid her hands on Lincoln's chest and lifted her hips. Sam angled Lincoln's erection to his sister's center and her pussy slipped against his head, drawing a surprised, expectant shudder from the girl. The blonde steered him south, slowly, agonizingly so, teasing her with her brother's cock as she whimpered. Luna had never felt so empty in her life; her insides clenched at air, her netherlips squeezing weakly against his tool. Only once Sam was satisfied she'd heard enough of her girlfriend's delicious begging did she at last fully line Lincoln's cock up with the opening. Luna bunched and twisted her brother's shirt in her hands as she felt it, butt clenching, tiny breasts shaking. "He's there," she half panted, half moaned in disbelief, "He's there..."

Sam grinned maniacally at the way her girlfriend made such a desperate, yearning spectacle of herself. She gripped Lincoln's prick and felt it throb, pumping along with his heart. The young man threw his head back and jerked his hips slowly, fucking Sam's hand as he groaned, the sight of his sister's earlier squirming and pleading having already pushed him to the very edge. Luna aligned their sexes, then stopped, her pussy one hard jerk away from taking her brother to the hilt. Time felt like it slowed down for a moment as their eyes met, a wordless understanding somehow piercing through the fog of lust choking the two. A look of anxiety flashed between them.

This was it, the point of no return. The cold, undeniable finality of it served to cool the Louds' flaring passions just enough for them to really think about what they were about to do. They could still stop now, put their clothes back on, and go back to being brother and sister. They weren't lost yet. But this was their very last chance. Once they crossed that final line, once Lincoln was truly inside of her, what they did would forever be between them, for better or worse.

Luna nervously licked her lips and Lincoln swallowed hard. His hand went to hers and closed over it in a gesture of love and understanding. Whatever she decided, he was trying to tell her, it was alright. He would accept it. A pained but happy expression crossed her face, and turning her hand, she threaded her fingers through his. The siblings stared silently into each other's eyes, every thought, memory, and act of love they'd ever shared passing between them.

The two made their choice.

With a plunge, Luna sank onto her brother's erection. Both cried out, hard, the incredible sensation of each other's bodies instantly wrenching the breath from their lungs. Pulling her hand back from between them, Sam stared openly and shamelessly as their hips rocked together in blasphemous harmony. Luna had finally seized her prize; watching it happen was Sam's. The blonde couldn't believe it, the sheer, thrilling debauchery of she was seeing leaving her lightheaded. She was certain not many people on earth would ever get to personally witness something so depraved, so crazy, so fucking _hot_. For the thousandth time that day, she was grateful to Luna for being in her life.

Lincoln clenched his sister's hands in his as he fought to breathe. Her pussy clung to him like sopping bliss, her muscles frantically squeezing his shaft as if to draw his seed out as quickly as possible, like she _needed_ it, the way she needed oxygen or water. Luna leaned over, pinning his arms on either side of him, and ground her hips down hard, her lips seizing his as she did. Lincoln kissed her and she kissed back, more desperately now, their tongues wrestling for dominance. She sank down, inch after fat, delicious inch of his cock spreading her near-painfully, until at last his swollen, drooling tip came to prod against the opening to her womb. A strangled grunt knocked from her throat. She let go of his hands and cupped his face. As she slowly became used to his size, her butt gradually began sliding up and down, up and down, her walls stroking him more desperately with every moment. She was so tight it hurt, the sweetest pain, and Lincoln moaned into her mouth.

Breaking the kiss and rising up to her full height, Luna pressed her hands to his chest and shifted to get a better position. She began setting a frantic pace and before long the bed was shaking, the headboard banging against the wall, and a series of moans and gasps escaped her throat each time he pounded into her overstuffed cunt and pummeled her cervix. For a moment Lincoln simply lay there and relished in the way Luna looked and the sublime sensations his big sister was working from him. Sweat plastered her auburn bangs to her forehead, moonlight sparkled on her lips, wet with their combined saliva, and her skin burned red with passion.

She looked into his eyes, and, with a lopsided smile, caressed his cheek with the back of her hand. The girl was so grateful to him for this. For loving her back. Luna Loud truly felt then that she was the luckiest person in the world. She was so fortunate to have such an amazing brother, so fortunate to have such an incredible girlfriend...The girl finally had everything she wanted in life, she thought with a disbelieving, ecstatic laugh. She never thought she could be so happy. Sensing her thoughts, Lincoln stretched his neck to affectionately kiss the back of the hand she was stroking his cheek with, then slid his fingers up the front of her stomach. He took her breasts in his palms and pinched her sensitive, cherry blossom peaks through her bra. Luna threw her head back and jerked, a breathy, "Lincoln!" falling from her lips.

Sam appeared behind her, kneeling, and helpfully undid the clasp on the back. Luna's breasts came free as her brassiere fell away, and the young man beneath her gazed up at them. Pale, delicious flesh dusted with tiny freckles, light areolas - somehow Luna was leaning over now, one hand pressed to the headboard behind him, and he twisted up from the bed, bending his back painfully so he could suck at her nipples. Her skin was slick with sweat and salty, and the taste coated the inside of his mouth. It was delicious.

"Oh, fuck!" She cried, eyes watering, arms hugging her little brother's head to her chest, "oh, fuck, oh, fuck!"

Her jaw dropped open and she rocked her hips faster, harder, their bodies knocking together and every slam into her tight, wet cunt bringing Lincoln one step closer to his own inevitable climax.

He felt his end near as Luna's pussy practically dragged it out of him; sperm boiled up from his balls, potent, like a geyser threatening to gush. He attempted to save himself from it, save her, but Luna thrashed wildly when he tried to lift her off of him and fell back down on him hard, taking him deeper than she ever had; the lips of her pussy kissed the base of his cock as his dickhead pressed firmly into the clutching, grasping entrance to her womb. There was nothing he could do to stop or even slow her down. As was so often the case in his life with his sisters, he was forced to simply let her do what she wanted.

Heart in throat, he spat Luna's breast out. Sam, with her chin on her girlfriend's shoulder, beamed down at him with a dirty smile that bared all of her teeth, her face just as red as his sister's. "I'm gonna cum," he barely managed to grunt.

Maybe Luna didn't hear him, but Sam did. "You sick little freak..." The blonde chastised him with a grin, and the look on her face just made him feel more frantic, more insane with arousal. Sam circled her arms around Luna's hips from behind and held her in place, her fingertips briefly ghosting over her taut tummy, right where her womb would be, and it made the brunette hiss with delight. "Do it, you fucking pervert!" she ordered, "Cum in your sister!"

Lincoln squeezed his eyes closed and gritted his teeth.

"Do iiiit, Lincy," Sam sang temptingly, the previously-innocent nickname his sisters gave him sounding so lewd coming out of her mouth that it drew another helpless mewl from him, which only urged her on, "Cum! She wants it! She wants it so fucking bad!" The blonde's pupils had dilated to the size of dimes; the girl was almost hysterical with lust. She was going to get Lincoln to sperm his sister's pussy if it was the last thing she did. Sam refused to let him wimp out now, not when she was this close.

The heat, the friction, Luna's velvety cunt...it was too much to take. He was barely holding on, the only thing keeping him from spilling what felt like gallons of his cum into her fertile womb was his devotion to Luna, his desire to look out for his sister like he always had, to keep her from making a mistake.

"Please, little bro..." The girl herself at last cut in, opening her half-lidded eyes to stare down at her brother with yearning, begging him. It was apparent now that she'd heard him all along and simply hadn't cared. Hell, it made her want it more. Sam was right. She _needed_ to feel it. It didn't matter to her how risky or wrong it was.

That was all it took.

Her sweet, quiet pleading sunk into his chest like a dagger, triggering an unstoppable release. Lincoln's back arched and he gave a strangled, wounded roar as he at last let go. His cock swelled inside of her and she gasped in either pleasure or pain, he couldn't tell, as a monstrous orgasm, two weeks in the making, overcame him. Luna's muscles clamped down on his manhood, perhaps sensing his impending release, and that was it: he erupted. Long, silvery ribbons of hot sin spurted deep into his sister's narrow passage, instantly flooding her womb. She let out a sharp yelp when she felt it, her pussy coming to life to pump him for every last drop. The brunette swept him into her embrace and clung to him as he filled her little heart-shaped box, all the while her insides squeezing him madly. Her breathing was ragged, her body shaking, her still moving hips slowly coming to a lame rest while his cum kept squirting into her so copiously some of it began dripping back out, over his shaft and down his sack. He buried his face in the crook of her neck and groaned, holding her tightly, desperately, like her soft, reassuring presence was the only thing keeping him from getting swept away into oblivion by the intensity of everything that was happening. Both of them went through that crucible of passion together, their neurons sparking and sizzling as they reached their peak at the same time. Neither of them had ever cum nearly so hard before and Lincoln's balls lurched almost painfully as his dick jerked in an orgasm that just wouldn't seem to end.

Slowly, more and more time began to pass between each spasm of his cock until finally, thankfully, the last bit of his load finished pouring out of him and into his sister. Lincoln's erection deflated slightly inside her as both of them stilled. It was only some time after her brother was finally finished filling her pussy with spoonfuls of his rich, potent sperm that Luna barely gathered the energy to roll off of him. The girl lay there helplessly, gasping for air, legs propped up in a loose M, as she nearly cried. She ranked her fingers through her sweaty hair and took a deep, shivery breath, her teeth chattering from the intensity and length of her climax. She was _still_ cumming, even then, knee-knockingly powerful aftershocks rumbling through her body like they were intent on shaking the very foundations of her being. Sam knelt before her and watched Lincoln's sperm gush out of his sister's tight slit, entranced.

To her, it looked like a delicate, cream-filled little pastry, just begging for her to dig in, and she hesitated for only a moment before pushing the brunette's limp, twitching legs apart. Sam got on her stomach, crawled between her thighs, and pressed her lips to her girlfriend's folds to a surprised, near-pained shriek from Luna. Lincoln's cum was thick and warm and delicious and she scooped up as much of it as possible from inside of her with her tongue, extending the poor girl's orgasm into what felt like infinity as she howled, squirmed and begged her to stop, that it was too much, that she was too sensitive, but she was weak, powerless in the blonde's hands, and Sam, as always, simply did whatever she wanted. When at last the near-endless flow of cum slowed, what remained of it sealed safely away from Sam's questing tongue in her girlfriend's womb, Luna gave one last weak buck against her mouth before collapsed against the bed, a near-catatonic, trembling mess.

It was at that point that Sam dutifully moved on to her brother.

Lincoln's penis, drenched in his and his sister's fluids, was still half-hard and bent to one side. The exhausted boy regarded the blonde with the wariness of a mouse in a cat den after seeing what she did to Luna and she grinned. On her hands and knees, butt thrust into the air, she crawled to him the way she had to her. "Do you mind if I suck you?" she asked.

That was a rhetorical question. No matter what he said, she was going to put his dick in her mouth.

He swallowed and glanced at his sister, as if asking her to intervene, but she didn't even acknowledge the look he gave her. The young woman was utterly lost to the world at the moment, reduced to a glassy-eyed, boneless puddle of contentment; it was already pretty good she wasn't dripping down the side of the bed, let alone asking her to control her she-demon of a girlfriend. Lincoln groaned, again finding himself at Sam's mercy. Over the course of his stay with the two it had rapidly become a familiar position to him.

Planting her hands on either side of his legs, Sam gave the boy a wink before lowering her lips to his head and giving his cummy slit a slow, sensuous kiss that soon turned into her taking him in her mouth, her tongue swirling around his shaft and collecting his and her girlfriend's combined juices. God but did the two of them taste good...She took him to the back of her throat, then pulled back until he was almost out and then went down again. Even when she'd first pressed her mouth to Luna's stuffed pussy Sam, was only being urged on to do it by her own berserk lust and had, in the back of her mind, expected his cum to be nasty. That's what she'd always heard, anyway. She didn't know that Lincoln mostly just ate fruit and, to her delighted surprise, found the substance was actually tangy and kind of sweet. Even his balls smelled good, Sam gulped. While the blonde was theoretically bi, the truth was she'd never really had much of an interest in guys. Sue her. Girls were prettier. They smelled better. But she had to admit, as her girlfriend's little brother moaned and fresh, warm drops of his precum leaked over her tongue, something about Lincoln _really_ brought out the hetero in her.

The boy had believed he was completely spent, boneless after his sister wrung the most intense orgasm from his life out of him, but was stunned as the devilish blonde somehow coaxed him back to life. He was soon rock hard again, to his own astonishment, but as much as Sam liked the idea of sucking him off to another generous, shuddering climax with his fat cock stuffed down her throat, she had something else in mind.

Sam had him sit up and promptly took his spot next to Luna, her legs up in a submissive V and her toes wiggling enticingly, their electric blue nails shining from the glare of the street lamp outside. The blonde was totally nude; she'd quietly begun shucking her clothes once the siblings had started fucking and had finished stripping them off completely halfway through the blowjob. Lincoln suddenly snatched her bare feet in his hands, to the blonde's squealed delight, and dug his thumbs into the middle of her soft soles, rubbing them gently. Sam shuddered with pleasure; it was the most intimate, affectionate touch her girlfriend's little brother had given her until that moment, and it somehow put even more butterflies in her tummy than the feeling of his shaft sawing gently against her netherlips. Lincoln finally got into position, still too horny to think and easily led by the nose by Sam at the best of times, and she reached down to drag him to her opening. "Be rough," she demanded.

When he slotted his head against her pussy, she threw her arms behind her and held onto the mattress for leverage. Lincoln hesitated, a bit of higher awareness seeming to at last return to him; he turned and gave Luna a questioning look, as if asking for her approval. At some point the brunette had turned to face them, propping her chin up with her hand, gazing, mesmerized, at the two. When she noticed Lincoln staring at her, she nodded eagerly, eyes burning with anticipation. He gulped, finally hesitating no longer and pushing forward to force his oversized cock into Sam's tight slit.

The blonde moaned. He was even hotter than when she'd held him in her hand, and so big he spread her apart almost painfully. Luna and Sam didn't often use toys in bed, preferring fingers and tongues instead, and her tiny, hardly-used pussy clung to his prick like it was an unexpected intruder. Sam could feel every bump and ridge on it as he stretched her girlhood like a second skin, and when he finally began to rut her, stinging tears of pleasure-pain filled her eyes.

"Faster," she said, arching her back with a moan.

Lincoln braced his arms on the bed, face inches from hers, and set a rougher pace. She had to admit, he wasn't bad for basically a virgin.

That's when his head raked her G-spot. The boy suddenly went from not bad to fucking incredible.

"Yes yes, yes," her eyes widened and she panted, "like that, like that, like that-" He did it again, and her mind scattered. "Fuck, you're riding my G-spot!"

Lowering his head and squaring his shoulders, Lincoln clenched the sheets in his hands and forced his cock as deep into his sister's girlfriend as possible. Sam's eyelids fluttered, and a trembling nngh~ burst from her lips.

"H-Harder!" She commanded, her voice cracking when Lincoln began pressing against the entrance to her pink, virgin womb, "Don't tell me Luna already drained you dry?" She smirked, "I don't believe that." The blonde tremblingly pushed herself off the bed with one hand to lean over and defiantly whisper her next words into his ear, "_Not after all the teasing I put you through these last two weeks._"

To Sam's deep satisfaction, she heard how Lincoln growled, actually _growled, _in frustration. The girl had just tacitly admitted that every little thing she'd done to titillate and mortify him since he'd first started spending his summer break with them, all the subtle and not so subtle seductions, the provocations, the constant temptation he'd quietly endured to the point he began questioning his own sanity and stewing with nauseatingly intense shame and guilt every time he looked at her or his sister in the eye...she'd done on purpose. All the torture had been coldly calculated and gleefully inflicted by the blonde just for this moment, to bring all three of them together into one big, naked orgy on her bed. Lincoln paused for just an instant, as if deciding how he could get even, before suddenly shoving his hips against hers, hard. As the head of his cock glanced off her cervix, Sam emitted a loud squeal of joy. The arm she'd been propping herself up with gave out, her eyes almost rolling back into her head as the young man began to pound her pussy with uncharacteristic aggression.

Ecstasy coursed through her in intense, electric bursts, leaving Sam thrilled and helpless as her girlfriend's little brother gripped her thighs hard enough to bruise, then paused in his thrusts just so he could grind his pelvis against hers, his cock throbbing deliciously in the deepest parts of her clutching girlhood. Her head lolled to the side limply as she was gripped by a sudden mini-orgasm, only to be met with the sight of Luna, smiling at her serenely. Sam's breath caught in her throat at the look her girlfriend gave her, the expression she had as she gazed upon the blonde. It was as though Sam was her best friend, her lover and her savior all rolled into one. Before she could even say anything Luna suddenly leaned forward and pressed her lips against hers slowly, affectionately, with a tenderness that would have made her legs go weak if her brother hadn't already hiked them up to prop against his shoulders.

What they shared in that kiss was beyond words; in that moment Luna was expressing to her just how grateful she was, how much she needed her, and the place she held in her heart. After everything that had happened, she realized now she had **two** soulmates. The rocker knew there were very few people that would have done what her girlfriend had done for her; it seemed unbelievable that there could truly be someone in this world so unselfish, understanding and devoted, and Luna was prepared to do anything to make sure Sam understood just how incredibly special she really thought she was. She could hardly accept that anyone could care about her so deeply. It was humbling, and the young woman made the decision then and there that she was never, ever going to let Sam Sharp go. Luna truly believed she was the best thing that had ever happened to her.

Unbeknownst to Luna, tears gathered reflexively in the corners of Sam's eyes at the purity of the emotion she sensed from her significant other, the admiration and trust she held her in that practically beamed out from her face. She all at once felt ashamed, deeply so, that some of her motivation for doing all of this had had to do with gratifying her own desires rather than Luna's alone, felt unworthy of that immense trust, but that little doubt in herself was soon overwhelmed by the immensity of her girlfriend's love. The intense connection she suddenly felt with her was beyond anything she'd ever experienced and she was suddenly sure, more than she'd ever been or thought she could be, that she was going to spend the rest of her life with this girl if she let her. A vision of their future together coalesced behind her eyes in an instant of near-mystical passion borne from the heat of their rutting; she saw her and Luna, each cradling a child, snuggled up to a smiling, pale-haired Lincoln, who gazed upon all four of them with deep and unconditional love. The image was gone just as quickly as it had come, but Sam somehow knew, as certainly as she knew the sun rises in the morning, that it would someday come to pass.

The boy suddenly pumped into her again, ending the reverie and knocking the air out of her lungs. The heady revelation she'd experienced slipped from her mind, still unprepared to process it, like sand from between Sam's fingers, leaving instead only a flushed, needy young woman desperate for more. As her lips parted in a gasp, Luna took the opportunity to push her tongue into her mouth. Helplessly, Sam welcomed it, and though at first the kiss was just as innocent and romantic as it had been before, the brunette's half-lidded eyes suddenly shot open like she'd been struck by a thunderbolt.

She could taste her little brother's cum on her girlfriend's lips.

It was as though a switch had been flipped inside of her. Sam was dazed as Luna's tongue, which at first had been shy and gentle, suddenly began to lash hers fervently, rubbing against her gums and licking up the roof of her mouth with abandon. She had never been on the other end of such a scorching, frantic kiss, and the usually confident young woman suddenly felt like a timid little girl as she saw her girlfriend's eyes darken frighteningly with arousal. Luna turned her body to loom over hers, her hand at first cupping Sam's cheek before slowly drifting downwards, caressing over her collarbone, her breasts, then down further, pausing briefly at her tummy and grinning against the blonde's lips when she felt her little brother's firmness beneath her girlfriend's skin. Sam mewled helplessly as Luna's hand finally arrived at her tightly stretched pussy; her thumb, faintly calloused from playing the guitar, resting deliciously on her clit. The blonde's back went rigid in apprehension and fear; she suddenly felt like a bomb whose launch button was being played with. Sam was already barely hanging on as Lincoln reamed her poor cunt mercilessly. Despite the man-eater airs she'd been putting on all week, the girl didn't actually have that much experience with straight sex, and everything Luna's little brother was doing to her was making it feel like her brain was melting into happy, stupid goo.

"Oh God, baby, please don't," The increasingly frazzled young woman begged, all the confidence and control she'd been displaying up to that point draining out of her pitifully now that the shoe was on the other foot. Her hand clutched at Luna's wrist, though she was far too weak to actually pull it away, "It's too much...I can't..." Sam felt a terrible sense of foreboding as she how Luna's previously devoted and trusting expression twisted into one of wicked delight. Her girlfriend's fingers began to circle softly over her navel, sending jolts of expectation through her and making her core tighten instinctively, to Lincoln's hissed pleasure.

"You can't...what?" Luna asked with faux-innocence. Sam watched her dangerous grin through half-lidded, unfocused eyes.

"Mercy!" She finally squealed, twisting frantically in Luna's arms as her brother kept rutting her little pussy, "I can't-I can't-_I caaaaaan't_..." She moaned, her voice cracking. "I'm already cumming so hard! Please don't!" The blonde felt like she was about to cry, all thoughts of preserving her image as 'the one in control' now totally in the past; the intense pleasure roaring through her body left her feeling brittle and precarious, like a glass sculpture on the verge of tipping over. After all the time she'd spent plotting, scheming, and, yes, manipulating the two, to suddenly be utterly in the siblings' power left her feeling as vulnerable as it did hot. Lincoln, for his part, was enthralled by the sight in front of him. He never thought Sam could look like that, plead like that, and feeling her squirm desperately beneath his touch stoked something deep and primal within him.

"Do it." The young man was suprised to hear himself order, his voice low and hoarse, repeating the command Sam had given he and Luna earlier. His sister blinked, surprised, and turned towards him, but when she saw the look on his face the brunette licked her lips and smirked.

"Pleasedon'tpleasedon't-" Sam whimpered again, before Luna leaned forward and silenced her with another searing kiss. That's when she felt it: the rough pad of her girlfriend's thumb against her clit, flicking and rubbing it furiously. The blonde, already teetering on the edge, SCREAMED her sudden climax into Luna's mouth; her body spasmed so hard it lifted her hips off the bed like she'd been electrocuted. Lincoln caught her, holding her steady. Tears streamed down Sam's face as a mind-bendingly intense orgasm rolled through her unstoppably, but just when she thought he'd only been trying to get a better grip so he could fuck her harder, the boy instead leaned over towards her spasming leg, still dangling from his shoulder, and gave her smooth calf a gentle, loving kiss. As his earlier ferocity melted into tenderness and obvious affection, Sam felt her climax turn hotter and more suffocating in response, more desperate, nearly choking her.

Her keening orgasm stretched on for what felt like forever, the blonde totally lost to her own brutal pleasure, and Lincoln simply kept fucking her right through it. Eventually, however, he was forced to slow down his merciless rutting. For some time her pussy had been squeezing desperately around his cock, and no matter how much he wanted to stretch out her peak with his pounding, he'd evidently reached the limit of his self-control. His face was red and clenched, eyes squeezed closed. Even through the multicolored fireworks obscuring Sam's vision, she knew that look anywhere. He was about to cum.

The young man tried to pull away, but the blonde gathered what remained of her wits and snarled. Intent on reprisal, she used the last of her strength to cinch her legs around his neck and drag him forward with a sudden, rough yank. Lincoln gave a shocked cry as his tense body instantly uncoiled. Wet fire filled Sam's womb and the boy saw stars; she clenched her toes and came again with a whine, so hard her head ached. She shoudn't have done that, she knew. She should have shoved him away, told him it was dangerous. Of course it was dangerous; she and Luna had been each other's sole sexual partners for nearly as long as they'd known each other, almost ten years. Why would either of them be on the pill?

But then again, Sam Sharp never had been too sensible.

It didn't matter, the blonde was too overwhelmed by the sensations she was feeling to warn him, and even if she wasn't, with her girlfriend's hands holding the back of her head, she couldn't break the forceful kiss long enough to speak, and even if she _could_, it was up in the air whether Lincoln, totally lost in his desire, would even listen to her anyway. With all that being the case, Sam could only surrender herself to what was happening. His second orgasm was just as prodigious as his first, his cock jerking seemingly endlessly, squirting teaspoons of his cum inside of her, but the position they were in meant his sperm didn't flow back out. Instead, it all pooled at the back of her uterus as Sam almost vibrated with pleasure at the feeling. It was the first time anyone had ever cum inside of her.

Lincoln was holding himself up by his hands over her but his elbows buckled pitifully with every fresh gout of sperm he released, his strength seemingly draining out of him right along with it. After what seemed an eternity of him pumping Sam full of his cum, he was finally spent. He squeezed his eyes shut, the room going quiet. The young man's back trembled with exertion as he withdrew his softening cock from her well-fucked hole and pulled himself to the side so he wouldn't collapse on top of her, a superhuman effort it seemed to him, to roll onto his back. When he did the blonde turned and clung to his arm frantically, pitifully, like it was the only thing that could provide her any safety. Lincoln might as well have been a board of driftwood she was hanging on to in the middle of the ocean as she was continuously tossed about by the savage waves of her own neverending climax. The girl was near sobbing from the crush of sensations and emotions, the muscle-strainingly intense jolts of pleasure still coursing through her. That's when she suddenly felt Luna begin to rub her naked back lovingly, dipping in close behind her to whisper sweet, comforting words into her ear while she shuddered. Lincoln himself wasn't doing too much better than she was, but he still couldn't help but turn to face her once he noticed the desperate, insistent clenching of her fingers over his forearm. The young man blinked the stinging sweat out of his eyes to really look at Sam. Gone was the smirking, self-assured sexpot she had enjoyed presenting herself as, replaced instead with a trembling, overwhelmed young woman on the verge of tears. Lincoln's heart ached a little at the sight. A sweet, familiar scent reached him and his nose crinkled; she used the same shampoo as his sister, and as the chemical blueberry smell intensified from her perspiration, to Lincoln's mixed up, intoxicated mind she suddenly seemed so much like Luna to him he could hardly stand it. He couldn't help but lean over and, to Sam's surprise, press an affectionate kiss against the crown of her head, his nose resting in her damp nest of blonde curls, at the same time Luna began kissing the side of her neck. She froze, then all at once began bawling, hiding her face against his chest so he and Luna couldn't see it even as her girlfriend continued to rub her back reassuringly, laughing softly.

There was one thing she had never told Luna. The truth was that despite the fact she'd been so eager for her and her brother to hook up, ever since she'd found out about her girlfriend's feelings there was a part of her, a small part, that was scared. No, not just scared: terrified. It kept telling her that if Lincoln somehow felt the same way his sister did or ever started to, the two might just run off together one day, leaving her behind. Not that she didn't trust Luna but, well, blood was thicker than water, right...? It wasn't the whole or even the main reason she'd done what she had, that was still down to her own depraved kinks, but it was a persistent nag in the back of her head all the same, a minor but intrusive concern she hadn't been able to quiet despite her best efforts, and on some level it _had_ had some influence in how she'd rationalized her actions to herself, led her to secretly nurse the notion that in addition simply to wanting to see it because it got her hot, if she demonstrated herself to be accepting of the idea of them fucking, supportive of it, maybe that would convince Luna not to ever leave her. She knew it was childish thinking, but Sam could be a childish person, especially when it came to the love of her life. She couldn't stand the thought of losing her, and that was why she couldn't help but cry when they consoled her. Sam knew then she had been accepted into the siblings' relationship with each other, totally and without reservation, just as she'd accepted Luna's brother into theirs. She realized that Lincoln never had any intention of trying to take her from her, that her girlfriend never had any wish to abandon her, and it only dawned on her just how heavy the worry she'd had had actually been once she finally allowed herself to stop pretending it didn't exist and instead truly let it go.

The young woman had come completely untethered and was hopelessly ashamed and embarrassed about the spectacle she was making of herself; if only she wasn't so emotionally raw from the nonstop climax her brain was still sizzling with like a hunk of meat on a hot pan, perhaps she would have been able to retain some of her dignity and hide the way she really felt, act like she'd always been as sure this was the way things would work out as she'd pretended to be. The circumstances, however, were not so accomodating. Sam shut her eyes, too embarrassed to look at either of them; as she wailed her heart out, she knew she must have come off like a little girl in that moment. She certainly felt like one. Still, nestled between her girlfriend and her girlfriend's little brother, both of them holding her tight, she suddenly felt so safe, so treasured...She had to admit, she didn't want them to let her go. The siblings worked together gently to soothe her and, eventually, the most intense of those heady emotions ebbed.

Minutes passed with the only sound in the room being Lincoln and Sam's heavy breathing and her intermittent hiccups as her sobbing slowly died down, her body still stiffening treacherously with the occasional miniature orgasm. Both were utterly spent. Luna, however, had managed to regain some of her energy in the time her girlfriend and her brother were preoccupied cumming their brains out. She stared at the two panting, spooning figures with mirth, feeling so happy and so fulfilled, over the moon that the two people she loved loved each other, too. Weeeeell...Maybe they just _liked_ each other for now, but the rocker knew it was only a matter of time. After all, Sam wasn't the only one that could make plans, Luna thought to herself mischievously. But that would be for the future. At the moment, her heart was still racing from everything that had just happened. The brunette thought she could suddenly understand why the idea of her fucking her brother hadn't appeared to bother Sam as long as she got to see it. The show the two had put on was _amazing_. Even though her earlier climax had been intense on the border of traumatizing, and she'd fully expected to be tapped out for the next _month_, watching her girlfriend and her brother ravish each other was so damn hot it'd managed to reignite an ember of that earlier fire in her. She almost asked Lincoln if he wanted to go again, but from the obvious exhaustion on his face she knew that would be a no. For the moment, she contented herself with observing her two favorite people cuddle together in post-coital bliss.

The brunette lazily traced the outline of their bodies in the dim moonlight, marveling at just how damn beautiful Lincoln and Sam actually were. She'd always thought the two were good looking, but in this new, erotic context, the sweat from their lovemaking making their bodies glow, they seemed almost like angels. Her fingers dug into Sam's back unconsciously to massage her deeper at the thought. Her two sexy angels. Luna laughed smokily to herself, idly letting her eyes roam down her girlfriend's supple shoulders and the smooth, unblemished skin of her back, then over to Lincoln's tight abdomen and still further down, only to pause when she finally reached his cock. She was stunned to discover that even after all that, her little brother's erection, though flagging, still hadn't gone completely limp. The girl gulped, biting her lip and glancing back at his face to see if he'd discovered her peeking, but he just continued to lay there, trying to catch his breath. She considered things for a moment, then silently disentagled herself from the two to creep down to his crotch, seizing the opportunity when he was at his weakest identically to how Sam had earlier. The last couple of weeks notwithstanding, the two girls were in fact pretty alike when one got right down to it.

Lincoln's eyes shot open, his well-honed instincts from a lifetime of growing up around his gaggle of troublemaking siblings warning him of danger. The boy shuddered when he felt a breath on his aching, sensitive dick. He craned his neck down to see what was happening only to see his sister kneeling in front of him as if spellbound. He groaned.

"Luna, don't..." Lincoln croaked. He was just too depleted. All he wanted to do at that moment was get some much-needed rest. She didn't show him any regard, though. Rather, his sister rifled him a dangerous, seductive look when he weakly tried to pull his hips away, her hand finding his sack to gently squeeze his balls in warning. Lincoln froze, flabbergasted. He had no idea what was going through her mind.

And how could he? His realization about his feelings had only come that night, but Luna had known what she'd wanted for ten years, and now that she finally had it in her hands, she wasn't ready to let it go. The girl refused to let anybody, even the boy she loved himself, take it away from her.

"Look, it's just..." He tried again, squirming a little in her grip, a bit more nervous now. "I'm tender, you know?"

"Sorry bro," Luna laughed musically, shaking her head, "But you don't get a say. This dick is _mine_ now." She gave his shaft a soft, possessive squeeze and he mewled helplessly in response.

"...You mean 'ours', right babe?" Sam asked hoarsely, cracking open a single weary, bloodshot eye. The words felt strange rumbling up from her chest; honestly, she'd only just remembered how to speak a few minutes ago, when the last intermittent aftershocks of that colossal orgasm had finally petered out. She'd barely gotten a very loose hold on herself, even then; the jackhammering climax the siblings had worked together to force on her had nearly cooked the blonde's mind into paste and as good as stripped her naked emotionally, leaving her bare for both of them to see, but she'd somewhat recomposed herself. Sam tried to mimic her old poise, pretending she hadn't made a fool of herself in front of them, and could only hope the siblings would have the grace not to call her on it. Regardless, the girl made a mental note to get the two back. _Especially_ Lincoln, she thought, pushing away from the young man a bit self-consciously. She couldn't help but blush so hot it nearly burned her cheeks when she remembered the kisses he'd given her. The nerve of the kid. He was just her girlfriend's little brother...

"Nuh-uh. Mine." The rocker shook her head again playfully, "Both of you belong to me."

Sam couldn't help but give a squawk of laughter despite how exhausted she was, everything else forgotten; she would have jumped up if she had the energy to. "You slut! Who do you think you are?" In a mighty display of willpower, Sam gathered her strength and pushed herself off her back, crawling down to join her girlfriend at the foot of the bed, "We'll see about that." She smirked. The young man she'd only moments before been nestling against tried to hold her back by the shoulder as she passed him, knowing his sister alone was already more than he could handle, but Sam just turned back to grin at him, evading Lincoln in one elegant motion that left his hand caressing her sleek, sweat-slickened back instead.

In effect, the three had calmed down a bit after cumming. They were still very, very far from clear-headed or sober, but it no longer felt like there was a blaze running through their veins that would devour them alive if they stopped. They could breathe again, think again. Sort of. What possessed the girls now was a more easy, languid sort of lust, the kind that knew it had all the time in the world to gratify itself. Luna in particular was absolutely luxuriating in the pleasant, sultry afterglow. The rocker stared at her little brother's dick, captivated by how its size and hardness had changed so much compared to earlier. She gave it an experimental jerk and Lincoln hissed loudly.

"Luna!" Sam chastised, nearly slapping her hand away even as it held their shared toy, "He just came! You've got to be gentle!"

"O-oh, okay..." The brunette loosened her grasp on his cock, pumping it much more carefully.

"Good." Sam nodded, "Remember, it's _delicate_. You've got to be careful with it. Stroke it in one motion from the base to the tip, then back." Luna did as she was coached and Sam encouraged her. "Yeah, like that." She licked her lips, "I mean, you don't have to be _too _gentle, it's not like you're gonna twist it off...Try going a little faster." The blonde's nostrils flared expectantly as she watched Lincoln's cock come back to life despite his drained, ineffectual pleading for them to stop. He might as well have been talking to himself.

Luna followed her girlfriend's instructions dutifully, pleased at how well they seemed to work, until something dawned on her, "Wait a minute..." Her eyes narrowed suspiciously, "How do _you_ know how to do this?"

It was a fair question. As far as she knew, Sam had as little experience with straight sex as she did. The two had been exclusive for a long time, and it seemed unlikely the blonde would have retained any of the clumsy, half-formed technique she could only have picked up as a highschool sophomore at the very latest.

"W-what?" The young woman blinked, taken by surprise. "Well, I mean, I..." She hesitated, seemingly deciding whether or not she should lie, but at Luna's continued, wordless glare, Sam finally sighed, coming clean, "I, uhm, watch porn sometimes." She admitted quietly, blushing. "After you go to bed."

"Dude!" Luna exclaimed, indignant. "That's such a betrayal!" Sam knew how she felt about stuff like that. The brunette had always been a bit of a romantic and made sure her girlfriend understood she should always come to her if she was ever feeling randy. And heck, most of the time she did! But, well, what could Sam say? She had a big libido. _Obviously_. That was part of the reason she'd done all _this_, after all. If she bothered Luna every time she was horny the poor girl would never have the time to get anything done.

Luna wasn't having it, though, and just stared at her judgmentally, as if waiting for her to explain herself. The blonde was sweating it a bit until she noticed the strange, wet smacking sound that was still echoing through the room. She turned her gaze back to Lincoln's crotch only to realize Luna had never stopped pumping his slowly hardening cock, still soaked with Sam's honey, even while scolding her. Luna followed her girlfriend's eyes to her own hand and witnessed herself unconsciously working her brother's dick, only then becoming aware of what she was doing. Sam turned back to her speechlessly, quirking a brow, and in response Luna could only blush as she finally stopped. The awkward silence hung in the air for a long, uncomfortable moment before the two girls suddenly burst into laughter.

"Alright, alright..." Luna shook her head. "Nevermind. Thanks, babe." She gave her a toothy grin before her smile suddenly turned much dirtier, her voice going low and conspiratorial. "So what do I do now?"

"_Weeell_..." Sam paused and bit her lip expectantly, "Why don't you give it a lick?" She asked plaintively. The fact that her girlfriend seemed prepared to do whatever she suggested to her little brother was like sexual catnip to the blonde. Sam herself _definitely _wasn't ready for another round tonight or maybe even for the next week, she'd cum _that_ hard, but talking Luna through blowing their cute, squirming boytoy while she watched? Hoh, that she could do.

Lincoln groaned. He couldn't believe they still had the energy to torture him like this after what they'd all just been through. The young man felt like he was on the verge of passing out and knew the girls couldn't possibly be doing much better than he was, but even after all that, Luna and Sam still seemed ready and eager to use him like their plaything. That old poem they'd made him read in AP English was right, the female of the species really was more deadly than the male.

"Like this?" Luna asked, prodding the head with the tip of her tongue experimentally. Lincoln's back twitched at the feeling. Everything happening still seemed so surreal, his sister on his knees in front of him asking her girlfriend what the best way to get him hard was.

"No, not like that." Sam shook her head, laughing. "Do it...Do it like it's a lollipop." The blonde suggested. Luna responded by lowering her mouth down to the base before dragging her tongue across his length in one long, slow lick. The boy's toes curled as his cock at last returned to a raging full mast again in defiance of his will. He couldn't help but sullenly note that Luna seemed terribly pleased with herself for being responsible.

"Perfect." Sam nodded, "May I?" She asked with surprising demureness for the situation they found themselves in. Luna gave her some space and the blonde happily wrapped her fingers around Lincoln's prick, giving the boy a few testing jerks which ellicited another sharp moan from him. It felt good in her hand, smooth, heavy and perfectly shaped for its purpose. There really was something to these things, Sam admitted. She hadn't ever really thought so before, but as Lincoln's vigorous tool flexed enthrallingly beneath her fingertips, she thought she could kind of see what all the fuss was about. Luna soon enough couldn't resist and joined her; luckily, there was just enough there that both girls could jerk him off at the same time, their testing touches and caresses soon turning into rough rubbing and pulling. Lincoln grit his teeth hard enough to ache under their ministrations as he tried not to give them the satisfaction of humping into their handjob. Each girl was subtly distinct in the way they pumped his cock, each one felt just a little different. Luna's hand was small and deliciously nimble, Sam's was hotter, softer and her movements much more self-assured. Sam liked to go slow, Luna liked to go fast. They clearly had different ideas on how to do things, yet when they worked together, it was like one of their duets: a perfect harmony. The poor boy was almost dizzy with fresh lust from it all, but could do nothing. His sister and her girlfriend were the ones dictating the pace of things at that moment.

"Lincoln had a crush on you when he was a kid, you know." Luna suddenly mentioned casually, something about the situation inexplicably bringing to her mind the time her little brother had told her as much. It was when Sam had joined the Louds for one of their inflatable pool parties, if she recalled right. He'd acted weird and quiet the whole time after the blonde had switched into her bikini and finally fessed up when Luna kept pressing him about it later that night. "He felt really guilty about it and admitted it to me once." She smirked, tickled by the memory.

"Luna!" The boy choked out, mortified and embarrassed to be exposed in that way, even when said childhood crush was currently in the middle of languidly giving him a handjob.

"Oh reeeally?" Sam grinned, turning to look at him with half-lidded, mischevious eyes. She seemed as though if she were a dog she'd be wagging her tail. "You should have let me know, kiddo. We could have been doing this so much sooner." Lincoln groaned. He knew now Sam was all talk, but still couldn't help the vision that sprung to his mind when she said that: he imagined being eleven years old and bringing the girls lemonade after they'd had a hot, sweaty jam session in their garage. The young man pictured how the two would lick their lips, sharing a conspiratorial look between them, until Luna went behind his back to casually shut and lock the door. Perhaps he'd sense something was wrong and innocently wonder the smirking pair what they were up to. Sam would then place a hand on his slim, boyish shoulder, biting her lip, and ask him if he wanted to play a 'big kid' game with them...

The fantasy made his cock jerk powerfully, a fact that did not go unnoticed by the blonde, and she laughed. "Perv." She chided him playfully. Sam leaned forward and pressed a kiss against the side of his shaft with the same affection he'd shown her when he'd kissed her calf earlier. Lincoln's eyes watered and he shuddered beneath her touch needily. Whoever said turnabout was fair play probably hadn't had anything like this in mind.

"Teach me how to suck him off." Luna suddenly demanded when she saw her girlfriend's lips linger on her little brother's cock, all at once determined. She thought she could faintly remember Sam blowing him back when the firecrackers were going off inside her skull and was eager to learn. The brunette wanted to satisfy him, fully and totally. The notion was starting to form in her head; she'd make tonight and every night going forward so amazing that she and Sam would be the only girls Lincoln could ever possibly think about whenever he got hot. She intended to entirely ruin him for other women. Luna realized the idea was a bit messed up; that kind of possessive, needy thinking wasn't really like her at all. Nevertheless, it was what she truly, deeply wanted at that moment. She idly wondered whether Sam was rubbing off on her.

"Sure." Sam smiled, ignoring Lincoln's renewed protests. His balls were positively aching by that point but neither girl seemed to care. Sam soon began guiding her through the process patiently, explaining what to do and not to do when it came teeth and suction, and after a moment of psyching herself up, Luna wrapped her lips around the first few inches of him. She took a few slow, careful pulls to get used to the feeling as her brother gasped and squirmed, relishing in the sensation of how hot he was in her mouth, like a gentle, loving flame resting heavily on her tongue, then began pushing herself to go further, eventually culminating in her fighting to take him in her throat while Sam massaged her shoulders and whispered in her ear that her brother would love it if she did, the blonde flashing the boy a mischevious grin. Lincoln almost howled when his sister pressed herself down so far his cockhead tickled her tonsils and her glossy, perfect lips pouted against his taut ballsack.

The young man felt as though he was strapped into some kind of diabolical milking machine. He'd just had the two biggest, most intense orgasms of his life, yet was offered no respite or mercy. He tried to pull Luna away by force but she just hummed musically, the vibrations travelling up his cock from her throat, and he was so overcome by the feeling all the strength left him and he could only paw and caress her shoulders and hair instead, which only encouraged her to go further. Soon Sam joined the two, spurred on by the atmosphere and Lincoln's adorable reactions. The brunette pulled off his rod with a pop at her girlfriend's prompting, and after sharing a knowing, playful look, they began working together. Luna craned her neck to kiss and suck at his shaft and glans up near the top while Sam gently nipped the base of his cock, occasionally taking one of his balls into her mouth and rolling it around with her tongue. Every so often their eyes would roll up to look at him, both girls smiling gleefully.

The sensations they were wrenching from the boy were unreal and it was the struggle of his life not to cum. This torturous treatment went on for some time, with the two becoming more and more enthusiastic and expectant as they felt his cock lurch and twitch in near-release, until at last Sam reached her hand out and found Luna's. The girls' fingers entwined within each other's with obvious love, coming to a rest over his pelvis. Lincoln, for his part, reached up to hold on to the headboard weakly, as if that could keep him from pulled in any further into the maelstrom of pleasure that was the two girls' mouths and tongues. Finally, Luna went a bit too low as she was sucking the side of his cock, Sam went a bit too high, and their lips coincidentally brushed.

It had been an accident and not something they'd intended to titillate him, but the two soon discovered how viscerally Lincoln reacted when they did, not to mention how much they enjoyed it themselves, and very quickly they began to heatedly make out, their tongues dancing and dueling even with Lincoln's dick between them. The young man wanted to scream; just the sight of his beautiful sister and her gorgeous girlfriend sharing him was more than he could take, let alone paired with the maddening sensation of their dual blowjob, and he was soon teetering on the precipice as his brain buzzed with the ferocity of his incoming release. He tried to warn them about what was about to happen but, like before, they ignored him. Their lips, moist and hot and delicious, slowly glided up his shaft together, never breaking contact. Finally his cockhead was the only thing keeping them apart; they opened their mouths and shared a long, scorching kiss with it between them, trapped between their tongues while those tongues rubbed and scraped and wound together madly.

That was it. Lincoln was unable to resist any further and, with a desperate cry, he gave a buck and came for the third time that night, thrusting his hips up in an instinctive attempt to get as much of their tongues on his spasming cock as he could. While the orgasm was less intense than his earlier two and produced less sperm than was currently swimming in each girls' womb, it was still incredibly copious and soon flooded their mouths. His balls pulled up tight and with another unconscious jerk of his hips, his cockhead briefly escaped the seal of their lips, sending a single string of cum flying through the air and falling in a line over Luna's cheek and eyelid; the girls quickly recaptured his erection, however, and the rest of his orgasm was shot over their tongues, his cock throbbing and twitching through their uninterrupted kiss.

Sam felt her girlfriend smile against her lips. When Lincoln's climax eventually ebbed without them ever pulling away throughout, they playfully pushed the sperm back and forth between them around his shaft. After a few rounds of this, however, Luna suddenly gulped, swallowing down the lion's share of Lincoln's semen. She pulled back from her little brother's deflating erection, pushing it away from their faces with her hand, and leaned in to give Sam a deeper, proper kiss. The blonde was at first touched by the unexpected gesture until she suddenly felt her girlfriend sucking the last remnants of her brother's cum off her tongue. Luna only pulled back once she was certain she had gotten it all.

"You greedy bitch..." Sam complained breathlessly, her heart still pounding from the kiss, but Luna just grinned at her naughtily. The blonde bit her lip before suddenly springing forward to take her in her arms, leaning in and giving her girlfriend's face a long lick as Luna tried to squirm away, laughing. Her tongue dragged up from the bottom of her jaw, her cheek, and over her eyelid to finish at her forehead, fully scooping up the errant string of cum that had earlier pasted her eye shut. Sam swallowed the sweet, cloying sperm and smacked her moist lips smugly while staring down at her. The brunette tried to glare, nonplussed, but it was undermined by the amused smile tugging at her lips. Sam was struck by how beautiful she suddenly looked then, the picture she painted as Luna smiled to herself with such profound serenity. With the fear and guilt she'd been carrying with her all those years finally off her shoulders, Luna Loud was at last truly unburdened, truly free, and the difference in her was obvious, especially contrasted with her mood the last few weeks. Sam's self-satisfied smirk turned into a genuine, happy smile of her own and she pressed her forehead to her girlfriend's affectionately; the rocker responded by giving her a peck on the lips. It was the most chaste kiss they'd shared that evening, yet ultimately, perhaps, the most meaningful, too.

The two of them at last rejoined Lincoln on the bed, the girls, finally satisfied they'd gotten everything they could out of him for the night, snuggling up to Luna's still breathless, spent brother. Their legs tangled with his as they vined themselves around him like ivy; Luna rested her head in the crook of his neck and Sam rested hers on his chest, and every time they exhaled their warm breath would wash over his skin pleasantly. Though Lincoln was at first still miffed they'd done whatever they'd liked to him despite his protests, he couldn't help how his inborn nesting instinct eventually won out; he found himself begrudgingly circling their waists with his arms and pulling them closer to him to enjoy their bodyheat, the girls almost purring when he did. Lincoln noticed Luna's hand was perched over his belly, still entwined with her girlfriend's. He was totally in their clutches, he dimly realized then, as he glanced between their tranquil expressions, their untroubled smiles. It was impossible for him to escape.

The young man found he was okay with that.

Luna and Sam rested against him and he cradled both in his arms with an affection birthed from the unforgettable intimacy of what they'd shared. The small bedroom must have been a hundred and fifteen degrees and the sheets soaked and sticky with sweat, but none of them minded or even found it uncomfortable. They all just...basked, totally and deeply content in that moment. Admittedly, at times the memory of their lovemaking, the unreal intensity of it, frightened them a bit. Lincoln had never experienced anything like that before. He'd never felt like he could communicate everything he was thinking to someone just by looking in their eyes, never felt the lines of his self blur until he wasn't sure where he ended and another began, never felt so frenzied by desire that he'd pick one more sweet second together over anything, even his next breath. In that sense Sam and Luna were more experienced than he was, but even they were shaken by just how powerful the feelings had actually been. Yet as they lazed in the reassuring warmth radiating from each other, the fear faded. Whatever else, each of them knew that they were safe, that they were wanted. What was there to be scared of, then? The girls both sighed long, happy sighs, and Lincoln, drifting on the edge of unconsciousness, smiled to himself in blissful, helpless defeat.

Some time later, the glow from a nearby streetlamp would peek through a dillapidated apartment building's blinds to find two young women and a boy slumbering in the same small bed. None stirred, each instinctively mindful to avoid disturbing that rare instant of peace they'd managed to snatch from the world. The evening was coming to an end and the sun had begun to rise over the horizon, but not one of them seemed to care, their obligations for the day totally forgotten. Instead, as dawn arrived, they simply nestled closer, their chests rising and falling in sync as their bodies subconsciously sought each other out, confirming the presences of the other two, as though wanting to make sure the events of the night before hadn't just been a dream. Sam and the Loud siblings fit together just right, like a three piece puzzle that refused to be broken apart.

Finally, after everything that had happened that summer break, all the twists and turns, the dubiously-intentioned schemes, the comforting lies and perilous truths, they had managed to emerge on the other side of their shared ordeal in one piece, claimed that happy ending that had once seemed so impossible, so out of reach. The three knew that it wasn't over, that there would still be plenty of trouble ahead on this journey they had chosen to embark on, but it didn't matter. It would be worth it. _This _was worth it. Lincoln Loud, Luna Loud and Sam Sharp were, at last, totally fulfilled, totally content, and, after so long spent denying it on two of their parts...

Totally in love.


End file.
